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REDEMPTION AND OTHER PLAYS 



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REDEMPTION 

AND TWO OTHER PLAYS 

By LEO TOLSTOY " 

Introduction by ARTHUR HOPKINS 







BONI AND LIVERIGHT, 'INC. 



PUBLISHERS 



NEW YORK 






Copyright, 19 19, 
By BONI & LIVERIGHT, Inc s 



*7 






Printed in the United States of America 



CONTENTS 



PAGE 



Introduction by Arthur Hopkins ..... vi 

Redemption 3 

The Power Of Darkness . cc 

Fruits of Culture 145 



INTRODUCTION 

After making a production of Redemption, the chief 
feeling of the producer is one of deep regret that Tolstoi 
did not make more use of the theatre as a medium. His 
was the rare gift of vitalization: the ability to breathe life 
into word-people which survives in them so long as there 
is any one left to turn up the pages they have made their 
abode. 

In the world of writing, many terms that should be 
illuminative have become meaningless. So often has the 
barren been called "pregnant," the chill of death "the 
breath of life," the atrophied "pulsating," that when we 
really come upon a work with beating heart we find it 
difficult to give it place that has not already been stuffed 
to suffocation with misplaced dummies. 

We seat it at table with staring wax figures and bid it 
to join the feast. There is no exclusion act in art, no 
passport bureau, not even hygienic segregation. 

In writing the briefest introduction to Tolstoi's work, I 
am appointed by the publisher, a sort of reception com- 
mittee of one to escort the work to some fitting place where 
it may enjoy the surroundings and deference it deserves. 

The place to which I escort it is built of words, but what 
words have been left me by the long procession of previous 
committees? Where they have been truthfully used they 
have been glorified, and offer all the rarer material for my 
structure, but how often have they been subjected to base 
use. Perhaps some day we will learn the proper respect 
of such simple words as love and truth and life, and then 
when we meet them in books we shall know how to greet 
them. 

The study of Redemption is so simple that it needs 
no illumination from me. The characters may walk in 

vi 



INTRODUCTION vii 

strange lands without introduction. They are part of us. 
Fedya is in all of us. His one cry "There has always been 
so much lacking between what I felt and what I could do" 
instantly makes him brother to all mankind. His simul- 
taneous physical degeneration and spiritual regeneration is 
the glory that all people have invested in death. Tolstoi's 
cry against convention that disregards spiritual struggle, 
and system that ignores human growth, will find answering 
cries in many breasts in many lands. 

Utterly disregarding effect, technique or method, Tolstoi 
has explored his own soul and there touched hands with 
countless other souls, and since he has trod the path of 
countless millions who will come after him, the mementos 
of his journey will long be sought. 

ARTHUR HOPKINS. 



The translation of Redemption here published 
is the one produced by Mr. Arthur Hopkins at the 
Plymouth Theatre, New York, in the season of 
1918-1919. The part of Fedya was played by 
Mr. John Barrymore. 



Vlll 



REDEMPTION 



CHARACTERS 



Theodore Vasilyevich Protosov (Fedya). 

Elisabeth Andre yevna Protosova (Lisa). His wife. 

Mis ha. Their son. 

Anna Pavlovna. Lisa's mother. 

Sasha. Lisas younger, unmarried sister. 

Victor Michaelovitch Karenin. 

Sophia Dmitrievna Karenina. 

Prince Sergius Dmitrievich Abreskov. 

Mash a. A gypsy girl. 

Ivan Makarovich. An old gypsy man. \ Maiha's Barents 

Nastasia Ivanovna. An old gypsy woman. J t 

Officer. 

Musician. 

First Gypsy Man. 

Second Gypsy Man. 

Gypsy Woman. 

Gypsy Choir. 

Doctor. 

Michael Alexandrovich Afremov. 

Stakhov. 1 

Butkevich. \Fedya's boon companions. 

Korotkov. J 

Ivan Petrovich Alexandrov. 

Voznesensky. Karenin's secretary. 

Petushkov. An artist. 

Artimiev. 

Waiter in the Private Room at the Restaurant. 

Waiter in a Low-Class Restaurant. 

Manager of the Same. 

Policeman. 

Investigating Magistrate. 

Melnikov. 

Clerk. 

Usher. 

Young Lawyer. 

Petrushin. A lawyer. 

Lady. 

Another Officer. 

Attendant at Law Courts. 

Protosovs' Nurse. 

Protosovs' Maid. 

Afremov's Footman. 

Karenins' Footman. 






ACT I 

Scene i 

Protosovs' flat in Moscow. The scene represents a small 
dining room. Anna Pavlovna, a stout, gray-haired 
lady, tightly laced, is sitting alone at the tea-table on 
which is a samovar. 
Enter Nurse carrying a tea-pot. 

Nurse {enters R. i, over to table C). Please, Mad- 
am, may I have some water? 

Anna Pavlovna {sitting R. of table C). Certainly. 
How is the baby now? 

Nurse. Oh, restless, fretting all the time. There's noth- 
ing worse than for a lady to nurse her child. She has her 
worries and the baby suffers for them. What sort of milk 
could she have, not sleeping all night, and crying and cry- 
ing? 

[Sasha enters R. i, strolls to L. of table C. 

Anna Pavlovna. But I thought she was more calm now? 

Nurse. Fine calm! It makes me sick to look at her. 
She's just been writing something and crying all the time. 

Sasha {to nurse). Lisa's looking for you. 
[Sits in chair L. of table C. 

Nurse. I'm going. 
[Exits R. i. 

Anna Pavlovna. Nurse says she's always crying. Why 
can't she try and calm herself a little? 

Sasha. Well, really, Mother, you're amazing. How can 
you expect her to behave as if nothing had happened when 
she's just left her husband and taken her baby with her? 

Anna Pavlovna. Well, I don't exactly, but that's all 
over. If I approve of my daughter's having left her hus- 
band, if I'm ever glad, well, you may be quite sure he de- 
served it. She has no reason to be miserable — on the con- 
trary, she ought to be delighted at being freed from such 
a wretch. 



£ REDEMPTION 

Sasha. Mother! Why do you go. on like this? It's not 
the truth and you know it. lie's not a wretch, he's won- 
derful. Yes, in spite of all his weakness. 

Anna Pavlovna. I suppose you'd like her to wait till 
he'd spent every kopec they had, and smile sweetly when 
he brought his gypsy mistresses home with him. 

Sasha. He hasn't any mistresses. 

Anna Pavlovna. There you go again. Why, the man's 
simply bewitched you, but I can see through him, and he 
knows it. If I'd been Lisa, I'd left him a year ago. 

Sasha. Oh, how easily you speak of these serious things. 

Anna Pavlovna. Not easily, not easily at all. Do you 
suppose it's agreeable for me to have my daughter admit 
her marriage a failure? But anything's better than for 
her to throw away her life in a lie. Thank God, she's made 
up her mind to finish with him for good. 

Sasha. Maybe it won't be for good. 

Anna Pavlovna. It would be if only he'd give her a 
divorce. 

Sasha. To what end? 

Anna Pavlovna. Because she's young and has the right 
to look for happiness. 

Sasha. It's awful to listen to you. How could she love 
some one else? 

Anna Pavlovna. W T hy not? There are thousands better 
than your Fedya, and they'd be only too happy to marry 
Lisa. 

Sasha. Oh, it's not nice of you. I feel, I can tell, you're 
thinking about Victor Karenin. 

Anna Pavlovna. Why not? He loved her for ten years, 
and she him, I believe. 

Sasha. Yes,< but she doesn't love him as a husband. 
They grew up together; they've just been friends. 

Anna Pavlovna. Ah, those friendships! How should 
you know what keeps them warm! If only they were both 
free! 

[Enter a Maid L. U. 

Well? 

Maid. The porter's just come back with an answer to 
the note. 



REDEMPTION 5 

Anna Pavlovna. What note? 

Maid. The note Elizaveta Protosova sent to Victor 
Karenin. 

Anna Pavlovna. Well? What answer? 

Maid. Victor Karenin told the porter he'd be here di- 
rectly. 

Anna Pavlovna. Very well. 
[Maid exits L. U. 
[To Sasha. 

Why do you suppose she sent for him? Do you know? 

Sasha. Maybe I do and maybe I don't. 

Anna Pavlovna. You're always so full of secrets. 

Sasha. Ask Lisa, she'll tell you. 

Anna Pavlovna. Just as I thought! She sent for him 
at once. 

Sasha. Yes, but maybe not for the reason you think. 

Anna Pavlovna. Then what for? 

Sasha. Why, Mother, Lisa cares just about as much for 
Victor Karenin as she does for her old nurse. 

Anna Pavlovna. You'll see. She wants consolation, a 
special sort of consolation. 

Sasha. Really, it shows you don't know Lisa at all to 
talk like this. 

Anna Pavlovna. You'll see. 

Sasha. Yes, I shall see. 

Anna Pavlovna {alone to herself). And I am very 
glad. I'm very, very glad. 
[Enter Maid. 

M aid. Victor Karenin. 

Anna Pavlovna. Show him here and tell your mistress. 
[Maid shows in Karenin and exits door R. i. 

Karenin {goes C. and stands behind table C). {Shak- 
ing hands with Anna Pavlovna.) Elizaveta Andreyevna 
sent me a note to come at once. I should have been here 
to-night anyway. How is she? Well, I hope. 

Anna Pavlovna. Not very. The baby has been upset 
again. However, she'll be here in a minute. Will you have 
some tea? 

Karenin. No, thank you. 
[Sits chair R. 



6 REDEMPTION 

Anna Pavlovna. Tell me, do you know that he and 
she 

Karenin. Yes, I was here two days ago when she got this 
letter. Is she positive now about their separating? 

Anna Pavlovna. Oh, absolutely. It would be impos- 
sible to begin it all over again. 

Karenin. Yes. To cut into living things and then draw 
back the knife is terrible. But are you sure she knows her 
mind? 

Anna Pavlovna. I should think so. To come to this 
decision has caused her much pain. But now it's final, and 
he understands perfectly that his behavior has made it 
impossible for him to come back on any terms. 

Karenin. Why? 

Anna Pavlovna. After breaking every oath he swore to 
decency, how could he come back? And so why shouldn't 
he give her her freedom? 

Karenin. What freedom is there for a woman still mar- 
ried? 

Anna Pavlovna. Divorce. He promised her a divorce 
and we shall insist upon it. 

Karenin. But your daughter was so in love with 
him? 

Anna Pavlovna. Her love has been tried out of exist- 
ence. Remember she had everything to contend with: 
drunkenness, gambling, infidelity — what was there to go on 
loving in such a person? 

Karenin. Love can do anything. 

Anna Pavlovna. How can one love a rag torn by every 
wind? Their affairs were in dreadful shape; their estate 
mortgaged; no money anywhere. Finally his uncle sends 
them two thousand rubles to pay the interest on the estate. 
He takes it, disappears, leaves Lisa home and the baby sick 
— when suddenly she gets a note asking her to send him his 
linen. 

Karenin. I know. 

[Enter Lisa R. i. Karenin crosses to Lisa. 

I'm sorry to have been a little detained. 
[Shakes hands with Lisa. 

Lisa. Oh, thank you so much for coming. I have a 



REDEMPTION 7 

great favor to ask of you. Something I couldn't ask of any- 
body else. 

Karenin. I'll do everything I can. 

[Lisa moves away a few steps down R. 

Lisa. You know all about this. 
[Sits chair R. 

Karenin. Yes, I know. 

Anna Pavlovna. Well, I think I'll leave you two young 
people to yourselves. 

(To Sasha.) Come along, dear, you and I will be just 
in the way. 

[Exit L. U. Anna Pavlovna and Sasha. 

Lisa. Fedya wrote to me saying it was all over between 
us. (She begins to cry.) That hurt me so, bewildered me 
so, that — well, I agreed to separate. I wrote to him saying 
I was willing to give him up if he wanted me to. 

Karenin. And now you're sorry? 

Lisa (nodding). I feel I oughtn't to have said yes. 
I can't. Anything is better than not to see him again. Vic- 
tor dear, I want you to give him this letter and tell him 
what I've told you, and — and bring him back to me. 
[Gives Victor a letter. 

Karenin. I'll do what I can. 

[Takes letter, turns away and sits chair R. of table 
C. 

Lisa. Tell him I will forget everything if only he will 
come back. I thought of mailing this, only I know him: 
he'd have a good impulse, first thwarted by some one, some 
one who would finally make him act against himself. 
[Pause, 

Are you — are you surprised I asked you? 

Karenin. No. (He hesitates.) But — well, candidly, 
yes. I am rather surprised. 

Lisa. But you are not angry? 

Karenin. You know I couldn't be angry with you. 

Lisa. I ask you because I know you're so fond of him. 

Karenin. Of him — and of you too. Thank you for 
trusting me. I'll do all I can. 

Lisa. I know you will. Now I'm going to tell you every- 
thing. I went to-day to Afremov's, to find out where he 



8 REDEMPTION 

was. They told me he was living with the gypsies. Of 
course that's what I was afraid of. I know he'll be swept 
off his feet if he isn't stopped in time. So you'll go, won't 
you? 

Karenin, Where's the place? 

Lisa. It's that big tenement where the gypsy orchestra 
lives, on the left bank below the bridge. I went the r e my- 
self. I went as far as the door, and was just going to send 
up the letter, but somehow I was afraid. I don't know why. 
And then I thought of you. Tell him, tell him I've for- 
gotten everything and that I'm here waiting for him to 
come home. (Crosses to Karenin — a little pame.) Do 
it out of love for him, Victor, and out of friendship for me. 
[Another pause. 

Karenin. I'll do all I can. 

[He bows to her and goes out L. U. Enter Sasha 
L. U., goes L. over near table C. 

Sasha. Has the letter gone? (Lisa nods.) He had no 
objections to taking it himself? 
[Lisa, R. C, shakes head. 

Sasha (L. C). Why did you ask him? I don't under- 
stand it. 

Lisa. Who else was there? 

Sasha. But you know he's in love with you. 

Lisa. Oh, that's all past. (Over to table C.) Do you 
think Fedya will come back? 

Sasha. I'm sure he will, but 

[Enter Anna Pavlovna. 

Anna Pavlovna. Where's Victor Karenin? 

Lisa. Gone. 

Anna Pavlov:: a. Gone? 

Lisa. I've asked him to do something for me. 

Anna Pavlovna. What was it? Another secret? 

Lisa. No, not a secret. I simply asked him to take a 
letter to Fedya. 

Anna Pavlovna. To Fedor Protosov? 

Lisa. Oh, to Fedya, Fedya. 

Anna Pavlovna. Then it's not going to be over? 

Lisa. I can't let him leave me. 

Anna Pavlovna. Oh, so we shall commence all over again. 



REDEMPTION 9 

Lisa. I'll do anything you like, but I can't give him up. 

Anna Pavlovna. You don't mean you want him to come 
back? 

Lisa. Yes, yes. 

Anna Pavlovna. Let that reptile into the house again! 

Lisa. Please don't talk like that. He's my husband. 

Anna Pavlovna. Was your husband. 

Lisa. No. He's still my husband. 

Anna Pavlovna. Spendthrift. Drunkard. Reprobate. 
And you'll not part from him! 

Lisa. Oh, Mother, why do you keep on hurting me! 
You seem to enjoy it. 

Anna Pavlovna. Hurt you, do I? Enjoy it, do I? Very 
well, then, if that's the case, I'd better go. 

[Pause. 
I see I'm in your way. You want me to go. Well, all 
I can say is I can't make you out. I suppose you're 
being "modern" and all that. But to me, it's just plain 
disgusting. First, you make up your mind to separate from 
your husband, and then you up and send for another man 
who's in love with you 

Lisa. Mother, he's not. 

Anna Pavlovna. You know Karenin proposed to you, 
and he's the man you pick out to bring back your husband. 
I suppose you do it just to make him jealous. 

Lisa. Oh, Mother, stop it. Leave me alone. 

Anna Pavlovna. That's right. Send off your mother. 
Open the door to that awful husband. Well, I can't stand 
by and see you do it. I'll go. I'm going. And God be with 
you and your extraordinary ways. 

[Exit L. U. with suppressed rage. 

Lisa (sinking into a chair R. of table C). That's 
the last straw. 

Sasha. Oh, she'll come back. We'll make her under- 
stand. (Going to the door and following after her mother,) 

Now, Mother darling, listen — listen 

[Exit L. U. 

[All lights dim to black out. 

CURTAIN 



10 REDEMPTION 



Scene ii 



A room at the gypsies', dark but beautifully lit. The actual 
room is scarcely seen, and although at first it appears 
squalid, there are flaring touches of Byzantine luxury. 
Gypsies are singing. Fedya is lying on the sofa, his 
eyes closed, coat off. An Officer sits at the table, on 
which there are bottles of champagne and glasses. Be- 
side him sits a musician taking down the song. 
Afremov (standing L. U .) . Asleep? 
Fedya (on couch L. Raising his hand warningly) . Sh! 
Don't talk! Now let's have "No More at Evening." 

Gypsy Leader. Impossible, Fedor Protosov. Masha 
must have her solo first. 

Fedya. Afterwards. Now let's have "No More at Eve- 
ning." 

[Gypsies sing. 
Gypsy Woman (R.C., when they finish singing, turning 
to Musician who is sitting at table R., with his back to 
audience). Have you got it? 

Musician. It's impossible to take it down correctly. 
They change the tune each time, and they seem to have a 
different scale, too. (He calls a gypsy woman.) Is this it? 
[He hums a bar or two. 
Gypsy Woman (clapping her hands). Splendid! Won- 
derful! How can you do it? 

Fedya (rising. Goes to table L. back of couch and 
pours out glass of wine). He'll never get it. And even if 
he did and shovelled it into an opera, he'd make it seem 
absolutely meaningless. 
Afremov. Now we'll have "The Fatal Hour." 

[Gypsies sing quartette. During this song, Fedya 
is standing down R., keeping time with the wine 
glass from which he has drunk. When they finish 
he returns to the couch and falls into Masha's 
arms. 
Fedya. God! That's it! That's it! That's wonderful. 
What lovely things that music says. And where does it all 
come from, what does it all mean? 
[Another pause. 



REDEMPTION 11 

To think that men can touch eternity like that, and then 
— nothing — nothing at all. 

Musician. Yes, it's very original. 
[Taking notes. 

Fedya. Original be damned. It's real. 

Musician. It's all very simple, except the rhythm. 
That's very strange. 

Fedya. Oh, Masha, Masha! You turn my soul inside 
out. 

[Gypzies hum a song softly. 

Mdsha {sitting on couch L. with Fedya) . Do I? But 
what was it I asked you for? 

Fedya. What? Oh, money. Voila, mademoiselle. 

[He takes money from his trousers pocket. Masha 
laughs, takes the money, counts it swiftly, and 
hides it in her dress. 

Fedya. Look at this strange creature. When she sings 
she rushes me into the sky and all she asks for is money, 
little presents of money for throwing open the Gates of Par- 
adise. You don't know yourself, at all, do you? 

Masha. What's the use of me wondering about myself? 
I know when I'm in love, and I know that I sing best when 
my love is singing. 

Fedya. Do you love me? 

Masha {murmuring). I love you. 

Fedya. But I am a married man, and you belong to this 
gypsy troupe. They wouldn't let you leave it, and 

Masha {interrupting). The troupe's one thing, and my 
heart's another. I love those I love, and I hate those I 
hate. 

Fedya. Oh, you must be happy to be like that. 

Masha. I'm always happy when handsome gentlemen 
come and say nice things to me. {Gypsies stop sing- 
ing.) 

[A gypsy entering speaks to Fedya. 

Gypsy. Some one asking for you. 

Fedya. Who? 

Gypsy. Don't know. He's rich, though. Fur coat. 

Fedya. Fur coat? O my God, show him in. 

Afremov. Who the devil wants to see you here? 



12 REDEMPTION 

Fedya (carelessly). God knows, I don't. (Begins to 
hum a song.) 

[Karenin comes in, looking around the room. 

(Exclaiming). Ha! Victor! You're the last man in the 
world I expected to break into this enchanting milieu. Take 
off your coat, and they'll sing for you. 

Karenin. Je voudrais vous parler sans temoins. 
[Masha rises and joins the group R. 

Fedya. Oh. . . . What about? 

Karenin. Je viens de chez vous. Votre femme ma 

charge de cette lettre, et puis 

[Fedya takes the letter, opens it, reads. He frowns, 
then smiles affectionately at Karenin. 

Fedya. You know what's in this letter, Victor? 
[He is smiling gently all the time. 

Karenin (looking at Fedya rather severely). Yes, I 
know. But really, Fedya, you're in no 

Fedya (interrupting). Please, please don't think I'm 
drunk and don't realize what I'm saying. Of course I'm 
drunk, but I see everything very clearly. Now go ahead. 
What were you told to tell me? 

Karenin (is standing L. C. Shrugging his shoulders). 
Your wife asked me to find you and to tell you she's wait- 
ing for you. She wants you to forget everything and come 
back. 

[Pause. 

Karenin (stiffly). Elizaveta Protosova sent for me and 
suggested that I 

Fedya (as he hesitates). Yes. 

Karenin (finishing rather lamely). But I ask you not 
so much for her as for myself Fedya, come home. 

Fedya (looking up at him, smiling rather whimsically). 
You're a much finer person than I am, Victor. Of course 
that's not saying much. I'm not very much good, am I? 
(Laughing gently.) But that's exactly why I'm not go- 
ing to do what you want me to. It's not the only reason, 
though. The real reason is that I just simply can't. How 
could I? 

Karenin (persuasively). Come along to my rooms, 
Fedya, and I'll tell her you'll be back to-morrow. 



Fp, 



REDEMPTION 13 



Fedya {wistfully). To-morrows can't change what we 
are. Shell still be she, and I will still be I to-morrow. 
{Goes to the table and drinks.) No, it's better to have 
the tooth out in one pull. Didn't I say that if I broke my 
word she was to leave me? Well, I've broken it, and that's 
enough. 

Karenin. Yes. For you, but not for her. 

Fedya {down L. Politely insolent). You know . . . 
it's rather odd, that you, of all men, should take so much 
trouble to keep our marriage from going to pieces. 

Karenin {revolted). Good God, Fedya! You don't 

think 

[Masha crosses L. y goes to Fedya. Fedya inter- 
rupting him with a return of his former friendli- 
ness. 

Fedya. Come now, my dear Victor, you shall hear them 
sing. 

Masha {whispering to Fedya). What's his name? We 
must honor him with a song. 

Fedya, {laughing). O good God, yes! Honor him by 
all means. His name is Victor Michaelovitch. {Saluting 
Karenin.) Victor, my lord! son of Michael! 

[The gypsies sing a song of greeting and laudation. 
As they begin to sing, Masha and Fedya sit on 
couch L. 

{When song is finished.) 

Karenin {in an imploring tone). Fedya! 
[Exits quietly L. U. 

Fedya {business with Mashr). Where's the fur coat? 
Gone, eh? All right. May the devil go with it. 

Fedya. Do you know who that was? 

Masha. I heard his name. 

Fedya. Ah, he's a splendid fellow. He came to take 
me home to my wife. You see she loves even a fool like 
me, {caressing her hair) and look what I'm doing. 

Masha. You should go back to her and be very sorry. 

Fedya. Do you think I should? {He kisses her.) Well, 
I think I shouldn't. 

Masha. Of course, you needn't go back to her if you 
don't love her. Love is all that counts. 



14 REDEMPTION 

Fedya {smiling). How do you know that? 

Masha (looking at him timidly). I don't know, but I 
do. 

Fedya. Now, let's have "No More at Evening." (As the 
gypsies sing, Masha lies on her back across his lap, looking 
up into his face, which she draws down to her, and they 
kiss until the music begins to cease.) That's wonderful! 
Divine! If I could only lie this way forever, with my arms 
around the heart of joy, and sleep . . . and die. . . . (He 
closes his eyes; his voice trails away.) 
[Lights dim and out, then the 

CURTAIN 



Scene in 

Sophia Karenina's boudoir. Sophia Karenina, Victor's 
mother, is reading a book. She is a great lady, over 
fifty, but tries to look younger. She likes to inter- 
lard her conversation with French words. A servant 
enters. 
Servant (enters R., announcing). Prince Sergius 
Abreskov. 

Sophia Karenina (on sofa over L.). Show him in, 
please. 

[She turns and picks up hand mirror from table 
back of couch, arranging her hair. 
Prince Sergius (enters R. i. Entering). J'espere que 
je ne force pas la consigne. 

[Crossing to sofa L. He kisses her hand. He is a 
charming old diplomat of seventy. 
Sophia Karenina. Ah, you know well que vous etes tou- 
jours le bien venu. . . . Tell me, you have received my 
letter? 

Prince Sergius. I did. Me voila. (Sits L. on sofa L.) 

Sophia Karenina (working up to distress). Oh, my 

dear friend, I begin to lose hope. She's bewitched him, 

positively bewitched him. II est ensorcele. I never knew 

he could be so obstinate, so heartless, and so indifferent to 



REDEMPTION IS 

me. He's changed completely since that woman left her 
husband. 

Prince Sergius. How do matters actually stand? 

Sophia Karenina. Well, he's made up his mind to marry 
her at any cost. 

Prince Sergius. And her husband? 

Sophia Karenina. He agrees to a divorce. 

Prince Sergius. Really? 

Sophia Karenina. And Victor is willing to put up with 
all the sordidness, the vulgarity of the divorce court, the 
lawyers, evidences of guilt . . . tout ga est degoutant. I 
can't understand his sensitive nature not being repelled by 
it. 

Prince Sergius (smiling). He's in love, and when a 
man's really in love 

Sophia Karenina (interrupting). In our time love 
could remain pure, coloring one's whole life with a romantic 
friendship. Such love I understand and value. 

Prince Sergius (sighing). However, the present genera- 
tion refuses to live on dreams. (He coughs delicately.) 
La possession de Tame ne leur suf&t plus. So what is the 
alternative? But tell me more of Victor. 

Sophia Karenina. There's not very much to say. 
He seems bewitched, hardly my son. Did you know I'd 
called upon her? Victor pressed me so it was impossible to 
refuse. But Dieu merci, I found her out. So I merely left 
my card, and now she has asked me if I could receive her 
to-day, and I am expecting her (she glances at her 
watch) any moment now. I am doing all this to please 
Victor, but conceive my feelings. I know you always can. 
Really, really, I need your help. 

Prince Sergius (bowing). Thank you for the honor you 
do me. 

Sophia Karenina. You realize this visit decides Vic- 
tor's fate. I must refuse my consent, or But that's im- 
possible. 

Prince Sergius. Have you met her? 

Sophia Karenina. I've never seen her, but I'm afraid 
of her. No good woman leaves her husband, especially 
when there's nothing obviously intolerable about him. Why, 



16 REDEMPTION 

I've seen Protosov often with Victor, and found him even 
quite charming. 

Prince Sergius (murmurs). So I've heard. So I've 
heard. 

Sophia Karenina {continuing). She should bear her 
cross without complaint. And Victor must cease trying to 
persuade himself that his happiness lies in defying his 
principles. What I don't understand is how Victor, with 
his religious views, can think of marrying a divorced 
woman. I've heard him say over and over again — once 
quite lately — that divorce is totally inconsistent with true 
Christianity. If she's been able to fascinate him to that 
point, I am afraid of her. — But how stupid of me to talk 
all the time! Have you spoken to him at all? What does 
he say? And don't you thoroughly agree with me? 

Prince Sergius. Yes, I've spoken to Victor. I think he 
really loves her, has grown accustomed to the idea of lov- 
ing her, pour ainsi dire. (Shaking his head.) I don't be- 
lieve he could ever now care for another woman. 

Sophia Karenina (sighing). And Varia Casanzeva 
would have made him such a charming wife. She's so de- 
voted already. 

Prince Sergius (smiling). I am afraid I hardly see her 
in the present . . . tableau. (Earnestly.) Why not sub- 
mit to Victor's wish and help him? 

Sophia Karenina. To marry a divorcee? And after- 
wards have him running into his wife's husband? How can 
you calmly suggest that a mother accept such a situation for 
her son? 

Prince Sergius. But, chere amie, why not approve of the 
inevitable? And you might console yourself by regarding 
the dangers he'll avoid by marrying this gentle, lovely 
woman. After all, suppose he conceived a passion for 

some one- 

[Convey the word "disreputable". 

Sophia Karenina. How can a good woman leave her 
husband? 

Prince Sergius. Ah, that's not like you. You're unkind 
and you're harsh. Her husband is the sort of man — well, 
he's his own worst enemy. A weakling, a ne'er-do-well — 



REDEMPTION 17 

he's spent all his money and hers too. She has a child. 
Do you think you can condemn her for leaving him? As 
a matter of fact she didn't leave him, he left her. 

Sophia Karenina (faintly). Oh what a mud-pen I'm 
slipping into! 

Prince Sergius (amused). Could your religion aid 
you? 

Sophia Karenina (smelling her salts). In this instance, 
religion would require of me the impossible. C'est plus 
fort que moi. 

Prince Sergius. Fedya himself — you know what a 
charming clever creature he is when he's in his senses — he 
advised her to leave him. 

[Enter Victor who kisses his mother's hand and 
greets Prince Sergius. 

Karenin. Ah, Prince Sergius! (Shakes hands with 
Prince — formally.) Maman, I've come to tell you that 
Elizaveta Protosova will be here directly. There's only one 
thing I ask you: do you still refuse your consent to my 
marriage 

Sophia Karenina (interrupting). And I most assuredly 
do. 

Karenin (continuing. Frowning). In that case all I 
ask is for you not to speak to her about it. 

Sophia Karenina. I don't suppose we shall even men- 
tion the subject. I certainly shan't, 

Karenin (standing at head of sofa L.). If you don't, 
she won't. (Pleadingly.) Mother dear, I just want you 
to know her. 

Sophia Karenina. One thing I can't understand. How 
is it you want to marry Lisa Protosova, a woman with a 
living husband, and at the same time believe divorce is a 
crime against Christianity? 

Karenin. Oh, Maman, that's cruel of you. Life is far 
too complex to be managed By a few formulas. Why are 
you so bitter about it all? 

Sophia Karenina (honestly). I love you. I want you 
to be happy. 

Karenin (imploringly to Prince Sergius). Sergius 
Abreskov! 



18 REDEMPTION 

Prince Sergius (to Sophia Karenina). Naturally you 
want him happy. But it's difficult for our hearts, wearied 
from the weight of years, to feel the pulse of youth and 
sympathize, especially is it difficult for you, my friend, 
who have schooled yourself to view Victor's happiness in 
a single way. . . . 

Sophia Karenina. Oh, you're all against me. Do as 
you like. Vous etes majeur. (Sniffing into her pocket 
handkerchief.) But you'll kill me. 

Karenin {deeply distressed). Ah, Mother, please. It's 
worse than cruel to say things like that. 

Prince Sergius {smiling to Victor). Come, come, Vic- 
tor, you know your mother speaks more severely than she 
could ever act. 

Sophia Karenina. I shall tell her exactly what I think 
and feel, and I hope I can do it without offending her. 

Prince Sergius. I am sure of it. 
[Enter Footman. 
Here she is. 

Karenin. I'll go. (Goes to back of sofa.) 

Footman (announcing). Elizaveta Andreyevna Proto- 
sova. 

Karenin (warningly). Now, Mother. 

[He goes out L. Prince Sergius rises. 

Sophia Karenina (majestically). Show her in. (To 
Prince Sergius.) Please remain. 

Prince Sergius. I thought you might prefer a tete-a- 
tete? 

Sophia Karenina. No, no. I rather dread it. And if 
I want to be left alone in the room with her, I'll drop my 
handkerchief. Qa dependra. 

Prince Sergius. I'm sure you're going to like her im- 
mensely. 

Sophia Karenina. Oh you're all against me. 
[Enter Lisa R. and crosses to R. C. 

(Rising) How do you do? I was so sorry not to find 
you at home and it is most kind of you to come to see me. 

Lisa (R. C). I never expected the honor of your visit, 
and I am so grateful that you permit me to come and see 
you. 



REDEMPTION 19 

Sophia Karenina (C). You know Prince Sergius 
Abreskov? 

Prince Sergius (L. — Heartily), Yes, I have had the 
pleasure. (Crossing to her, he shakes hands.) My niece 
Nellie has spoken often of you to me. 
[Goes to L. C. 

Lisa. Yes, we were great friends. (She glances shyly 
around her.) And still are. (To Sophia.) I never hoped 
that you would wish to see me. 

Sophia Karenina. I knew your husband quite well. He 
was a great friend of Victor's and used frequently to visit 
us in Tambov, (politely) where you were married, I believe. 

Lisa (looking down). Yes. 

Sophia Karenina. But when you returned to Moscow we 
were deprived of the pleasure of his visit. 

Lisa. Yes, then he stopped going anywhere. 

Sophia Karenina. Ah, that explains our missing him. 
[Awkward pause. • 

Prince Sergius (to Lisa). The last time I'd the pleas- 
use of seeing you was in those tableaux at the Dennishovs. 
You were charming in your part. 

Lisa. How t good of you to think so! Yes, I remember 
perfectly. 

[Another awkward silence. 

(To Sophia Karenina.) Sophia Karenina, please for- 
give me if what I am going to say offends you, but I don't 
know how to cover up what's in my heart. I came here 
to-day because Victor Karenin said — because he said that — 
because he — I mean because you wanted to see me. (With 
a catch in her voice.) It's rather difficult — but you're so 
sweet. 

Prince Sergius (very sympathetic). There, there, my 

dear child, I assure you there's nothing in the world to 

(He breaks off when he sees Sophia Karenina pointing 
impatiently to the floor. She has dropped her handker- 
chief.) Permit me. (He picks it up, presenting it to her 
with a smile and a bow; then looks casually at his watch.) 
Ah, five o'clock already. (To Sophia Karenina.) Ma- 
dame, in your salon pleasure destroys the memory of time. 
You will excuse me. 



20 REDEMPTION 

[He kisses her hand. 

Sophia Karenina {smiling). Au revoir, mon ami. 

Prince Sergins (bowing and shaking hands with Lisa). 
Elizaveta Protosova, au revoir. 
[He goes out R. 

Sophia Karenina. Now listen, my child. Please believe 
how truly sorry for you I am and that you are most sym- 
pathetique to me. But I love my son alone in this world, 
and I know his soul as I do my own. He's very proud — 
oh I don't mean of his position and money — but of his high 
ideals, his purity. It may sound strange to you, but you 
must believe me when I tell you that at heart he is as pure 
as a young girl. 

Lisa. I know. 

Sophia Karenina. He's never loved a woman before. 
You're the first. I don't say I'm not a little jealous. I am. 
But that's something we mothers have to face. Oh, but 
your son's still a baby, you don't know. I was ready to give 
him up, though — but I wanted his wife to be as pure as 
himself. 

Lisa {flushing hotly) . And I, am I not 

Sophia Karenina (interrupting her kindly). Forgive 
me, my dear. I know it's not your fault and that you've 
been most unhappy. And also I know my son. He will 
bear anything, and he'll bear it without saying a word, 
but his hurt pride will suffer and bring you infinite re- 
morse. You must know how strongly he has always felt 
that the bond of marriage is indissoluble. 

Lisa. Yes. I've thought of all that. 

Sophia Karenina. Lisa, my dear, you're a wise woman 
and you're a good woman too. If you love him, you must 
want his happiness more than you want your own. You 
can't want to cripple him so that he'll be sorry all his 
life — yes, sorry even though he never says a word. 

Lisa. I've thought about it so much. I've thought about 
it and I've talked to him about it. But what can I do when 
he says he can't live without me? I said to him only the 
other day, "Victor, let's just be friends. Don't spoil your 
life. Don't ruin yourself by trying to help me." And do 
you know what he did? He laughed. 




REDEMPTION 21 

Sophia Karenina. Of course he would, at the time. 

Lisa. If you could persuade him not to marry me, you 
know I'll agree, don't you? I just want him to be happy. 
I don't care about myself. Only please help me. Please 
don't hate me. Let's do all we can for him, because, after 
all, we both love him. 

Sophia Karenina. Yes, I know. And I think I love you 
too. I really do. (She kisses her. Lisa begins to cry.) 
Oh, it's all so dreadful. If only he had fallen in love with 
you before you were married! 

Lisa (sobbing). He — he says he did — but he had to be 
loyal to his friend. 

Sophia Karenina. Alas, it's all very heart-breaking. 
But let us love each other, and God will help us to find 
what we are seeking. 

Karenin (entering L. i). Mother darling. I've heard 
what you just said. I knew you'd love her. And now every- 
thing must come right. 

Sophia Karenina (hastily). But nothing's decided. 
All I can say is, had things been different, I should have 
been very glad. (Tenderly.) So very glad. 
[She kisses Lisa. 

Karenin (smiling). Please don't change. That's all 
I ask. 

[Lights down and out. 

CURTAIN 



Scene iv 

A plainly furnished room, bed, table and stove. Fedya 

alone writing. 
At rise Masha is heard outside calling "Fedya! Fedya!" 

Masha enters R. i, crosses to Fedya on bed C. and 

embraces him. 
Fedya. Ah, thank Heaven you've come. I was wasting 
away in boredom. 

Masha. Then why didn't you come over to us? (Sees 
wine glass on chair near bed.) So, you've been drinking 
again? And after all your promises] 



22 REDEMPTION 

Fedya (embarrassed). I didn't come over because I 
had no money. 

Masha. Oh, why is it I love you so. 

Fedya. Masha! 

Maska (imitating him). Masha! Masha! What's 
that mean? If you loved me, by now you'd have your di- 
vorce. You say you don't love your wife. (Fedya winces.) 
But you stick to her like grim death. 

Fedya (interrupting her). You know why I don't want to. 

Masha. Nonsense. They're right when they say you're 
no good. It's your mind that you can never make up com- 
fortably causing you all the worry. 

Fedya. You know perfectly well that the only joy I've 
got in life is being in love with you. 

Masha. Oh, it's always "My joy," "Your love." 
Where's your love and my joy? 

Fedya (a little wearily). Well, Masha, after all, 
you've got all I can give, the best I've ever had to give, 
perhaps, because you're so strong, so beautiful, that some- 
times you've made me know how to make you glad. So 
why torture yourself? 

Masha (kneels and puts her arms around his neck). 
I won't if you're sure you love me. 

Fedya (coming closer to her). My beautiful young 
Masha. 

Masha (tearfully, searching his face). You do love 
me? 

Fedya. Of course, of course. 

Masha. Only me, only me? 

Fedya (kissing her). Darling, only you. 

Masha (with a return to brightness). Now read me 
what you've written. 

Fedya. It may bore you. 

Masha (reproachfully) . How could it? 

Fedya (reads). "The snow was flooded in moonlight 
and the birch trees wavered their stark shadows across it' 
like supplicating arms. Suddenly I heard the soft padded 
sound of snow falling upon snow, to slowly perceive a figure, 
the slender figure of a young child attempting to arouse 
itself almost at my feet— I " 



REDEMPTION 23 

[Enter Ivan and Nastasia. They are two old 
gypsies, Masha's parents. 

Nastasia {stepping up to Masha). So here you are 
— you cursed little stray sheep. No disrespect to you, sir. 
(To Masha.) You black-hearted, ungrateful little snake. 
How dare you treat us like this, how dare you, eh? 

Ivan (to Fedya). It's not right, sir, what you've done, 
bringing to her ruin our only child. It's against God's law. 

Nastasia (to Masha). Come and get out of here with 
me. You thought you'd skip, didn't you? And what was 
I supposed to tell the troupe while you dangled around here 
with this tramp? What can you get out of him, tell me 
that? Did you know he hasn't got a kopek to his name, 
didn't you? 

[During scene with parents, Fedya sits dumbly on 
the bed, bewildered. He puts his forehead against 
Masha's face and clings to her like a child. 

Masha (sullenly). I haven't dpne anything wrong. 1 
love this gentleman, that's all. I didn't leave the troupe 
either. I'll go on singing just the same. 

Ivan. If you talk any more, I'll pull your hair all out 
for you, you loose little beast, you. (To Fedya, reproach- 
fidly.) And you, sir, when we were so fond of you — why, 
often and often we used to sing for you for nothing and 
this is how you pay us back. 

Nastasia (rocking herself to and fro). You've ruined 
our daughter, our very own, our only one, our best beloved, 
our diamond, our precious one, (with sudden fury). 
You've stamped her into the dirt, you have. Where's your 
fear of God? 

Fedya. Nastasia, Nastasia, you've made a mistake. 
Your daughter is like a sister to me. I haven't harmed her 
at all. I love her, that's true. But how can I help it? 

Ivan. Well, why didn't you love her when you had 
some money? If you'd paid us ten thousand rubles, you 
could have owned her, body and soul. That's what respect- 
able gentlemen do. But you — you throw away every kopek 
you've got and then you steal her like you'd steal a sack of 
meal. You ought to be ashamed, sir. 

Masha (rising, puts her arm around his neck). He 



24 REDEMPTION 

didn't steal me. I went to him myself, and if you take me 
away now, I'll come right back. If you take me away a 
thousand times, I'll come back to him. I love him and 
that's enough. My love will break through anything — 
through anything. Through anything in the whole damn 
world. 

N astasia (trying to soothe her). Now, Mashenka 
darling, don't get cross. You know you haven't behaved 
well to your poor old parents. There, there, come along 
with us now. 

[With greedy fingers that pretend to caress, Nas- 
tasia seizes her savagely and suddenly at the end 
of this speech and draws her to the door. Masha 
cries out "Fedya! Fedya!" as she exits R. 
Ivan (alongside). You open your mouth again and 
I'll smash you dumb. (To Fedya.) Good-bye, your wor- 
ship. 

[All exit R. i. 

[Fedya sits as though stupefied. The gypsies exit 

noisily. There is a pause. He drinks; then 

Prince Sergius appears, very quiet and dignified, 

at the door. 

Prince. Excuse me. I'm afraid I'm intruding upon a 

rather painful scene. 

Fedya (getting up). With whom have I the honor 

(recognizing the Prince). Ah, Prince Sergius^ how do you 
do? 

[They shake hands. 
Prince (in a distinguished manner). I repeat that I am 
afraid to be most inopportune. I would rather not have 
heard, but since I have, it's my duty to say so. When I 
arrived I knocked several times, but J presume you could 
not have heard through such uproar. 

Fedya. Do sit down. (Prince sits chair R.C.) Thanks 
for telling me you heard. (Sits on bed up C.) It gives me a 
chance to explain it all. Forgive me for saying your opin- 
ion of me can't concern me, but I want to tell you that 
the way her parents talked to that young girl, that gypsy 
singer, was absolutely unjust. She's as pure as your own 
mother. My relations with her are simply friendly ones. 



REDEMPTION 25 

Possibly there is a ray of poetry in them, but that could 
hardly degrade her. However, what can I do for you? 

Prince Sergius. Well, to begin 

Fedya (interrupting). Excuse me, Prince, but my 
present social position hardly warrants a visit from you. 
[Smiling. 

Prince Sergius. I know that, but I ask you to believe 
that your changed position does not influence me in what 
I am about to tell you. 

Fedya (interrogatively). Then? 

Prince Sergius. To be as brief as possible, Victor Kar- 
enin, the son of my old friend, Sophia Karenina, and she 
herself, have asked me to discover from you personally what 
your present relations are with your wife, and what inten- 
tions you have regarding them. 

Fedya. My relations with my wife — I should say my 
former wife — are several. 

Prince Sergius. As I thought, and for this reason ac- 
cepted my somewhat difficult mission. 

Fedya (quickly). I wish to say first of all that the 
fault was entirely mine. She is, just as she always was, 
absolutely stainless, faultless. 

Prince Sergius. Victor Karenin and especially his mother 
are anxious to know your exact intentions regarding the 
future. 

Fedya. I've got no intentions. I've given her full free- 
dom. I know she loves Victor Karenin, let her. Personally, 
I think he is a bore, but he is a good bore. So they'll prob- 
ably be very happy together, at least in the ordinary sense 
and que le bon Dieu les benisse. 

Prince Sergius. Yes, but we 

Fedya (rising, goes L., leans on table). Please don't 
think I'm jealous. If I just said Victor was dull, I take it 
back. He's splendid, very decent, in fact the opposite of 
myself, and he's loved her since her childhood (slowly) and 
maybe she loved him even when we were married. After 
all, that happens, and the strongest love is perhaps uncon- 
scious love. Yes, I think she's always loved him far, far 
down beneath what she would admit to herself, and this 
feeling of mine has been a black shadow across our mar- 



26 REDEMPTION 

ried life. But— I — I really don't suppose I ought to be 
talking to you like this, ought I? 

Prince Sergius. Please go on. My only object in com- 
ing was to understand this situation completely, and I begin 
to see how the shadow — as you charmingly express it — 
could have been 

Fedya {looking strangely ahead of him). Yes, no 
brightness could suck up that shadow. And so I suppose 
I never was satisfied with what my wife gave me, and I 
looked for every kind of distraction, sick at heart because 
I did so. I see it more and more clearly since we've been 
apart. Oh, but I sound as if I were defending myself. 
God knows I don't want to do that. No, I was a shocking 
bad husband. I say was, because now I don't consider 
myself her husband at all. She's perfectly free. There, 
does that satisfy you? 

Prince Sergius. Yes, but you know how strictly orthodox 
Victor and his family are. Of course I don't agree with 
them — perhaps I have broader views — {with a shrug) 
but I understand how they feel. They consider that any 
union without a church marriage is — well, to put it mildly, 
unthinkable. 

Fedya. Yes, I know he's very stu — I mean strict. {With 
a slight smile.) " Conservative" is the word, isn't it? But 
what in God's name {crossing to C.) do they want, a di- 
vorce? I told them long ago I was perfectly willing. But 
the business of hiring a street-woman and taking her to a 
shady hotel and arranging to be caught by competent wit- 
nesses — ugh — it's all so — so loathsome. 

[He shudders — pauses; and sits on bed. 

Prince Sergius. I know. I know. I assure you, I can 
sympathize with such a repugnance, but how can one avoid 
it? You see, it's the only way out. But, my dear boy, you 
mustn't think I don't sympathize with you. It's a horrible 
situation for a sensitive man and I quite understand how 
you must hate it. 

Fedya. Thank you, Prince Sergius. I always knew you 
were kind and just. Now tell me w r hat to do. Put yourself 
in my place. I don't pretend to be any better than I really 
am. I am a blackguard but there are some things that even 



REDEMPTION 27 

I can't do. (With a smile and helpless gesture.) I can't 
tell lies. 

[A pause. 

Prince Sergius. I must confess that you bewilder me. 
You with your gifts and charm and really au fond — a won- 
derful sense of what's right. How could you have per- 
mitted yourself to plunge into such tawdry distractions? 
How could you have forgotten so far what you owed to 
yourself? Tell me, why did you let your life fall into this 
ruin? 

Fedya {suppressing emotion). I've led this sort of life 
for ten years and you're the first real person to show me* 
sympathy. Of course, I've been pitied by the degraded ones 
but never before by a sensible, kind man like you. Thanks 
more than it's possible to say. (He seems to forget his 
train of thought and suddenly to recall it.) Ah, yes, my 
ruin. Well, first, drink, not because it tasted well, but be- 
cause everything I did disappointed me so, made me so 
ashamed of myself. I feel ashamed now, while I talk to 
you. Whenever I drank, shame was drowned in the first 
glass, and sadness. Then music, not opera or Beethoven, 
but gypsy music; the passion of it poured energy into my 
body, while those dark bewitching eyes looked into the bot- 
tom of my soul. (He sighs.) And the more alluring it all 
was, the more shame I felt afterwards. 
[Pause. 

Prince Sergius. But what about your career? 

Fedya. My career? This seems to be it. Once I was 
a director of a bank. There was something terribly lacking 
between what I felt and what I could do. (Abruptly.) But 
enough, enough of myself. It makes me rather nervous to 
think about myself. 
[Rises. 

Prince Sergius. What answer am I to take back? 

Fedya (very nervous). Oh, tell them I'm quite at their 
disposal. (Walking up and down.) They want to marry, 
and there mustn't be anything in their way (pause) ; is that 
it? (Stops walking very suddenly. Repeats.) There 
mustn't be anything in their way — is that it? 

Prince Sergius (pause. Fedya sits on table L.). Yes. 



28 REDEMPTION 

When do you — when do you think — you'll — you'll have it 
ready? The evidence? 

Fedya (turns and looks at the Prince, suppressing a 
slight, strained smile). Will a fortnight do? 

Prince Sergius (rising). Yes, I am sure it will. (Rises 
and crosses to Fedya.) May I say that you give them your 
word? 

Fedya (with some impatience). Yes. Yes. (Prince 
offers his hand.) Good-bye, Prince Sergius. And again 
thanks. 

[Exit Prince Sergius, R. i. Fedya sits down in an 
attitude of deep thought. 

Why not? Why not? And it's good not to be ashamed 

[Lights dim and out. 

CURTAIN 



Scene v 

Private room in a cheap restaurant. Fedya is shown in by 
a shabby waiter. 
Waiter. This way, sir. No one will disturb you here. 
Here's the writing paper. 
[Starts to exit. 
Fedya (as waiter starts to exit). Bring me a bottle of 
champagne. 

Waiter. Yes, sir. 
[Exits R. C. 

[Fedya sits at table L. C, and begins to write. Ivan 
Petrovich appearing in the doorway R. C. 
Ivan. I'll come in, shall I? 

Fedya (sitting L. of table L. C. Very serious). If 
you want to, but I'm awfully busy, and — (seeing he has al- 
ready entered) Oh, all right, do come in. 

Ivan Petrovich (C). You're going to write an answer 
to their demand. I'll help you. I'll tell you what to say. 
Speak out. Say what you mean. It's straight from the 
shoulder. That's my system. (Picks up box that Fedya 
has placed on table — opens it and takes out a revolver.) 
Hullo! What's this? Going to shoot yourself. Of course, 



REDEMPTION 29 

why not? I understand. They want to humiliate you, and 
you show them where the courage is — put a bullet through 
your head and heap coals of fire on theirs. I understand 
perfectly. {The waiter enters with champagne on tray, 
pours a glass for Fedya, then exits. Petrovich takes up 
the glass of wine and starts to drink. Fedya looks up from 
his writing.) I understand everything and everybody, be- 
cause I'm a genius. 

Fedya. So you are, but 

Ivan Petrovich {filling and lifting his glass). Here's 
to your immortal journey. May it be swift and pleasant. 
Oh, I see it from your point of view. So why should I stop 

- you? Life and death are the same to genius. I'm dead 
during life and I live after death. You kill yourself in order 
to make a few people miss you, but I — but I — am going 
to kill myself to make the whole world know what it lost* 
I won't hesitate or think about it. I'll just take the re- 
volver — one, two — and all is over — um. But I am prema- 
ture. My hour is not yet struck. {He puts the revolver 
down.) But I shall write nothing. The world will have to 
understand all by itself. (Fedya continues to write.) The 
world, what is it but a mass of preposterous creatures, who 
crawl around through life, understanding nothing — nothing 
at all — do you hear me? (Fedya looks up, rather exasper- 
ated.) Oh, I'm not talking to you. All this is between me 
and the cosmos. {Pours himself out another drink.) After 

j all, what does humanity most lack? Appreciation for its 
geniuses. As it is, we're persecuted, tortured, racked, 
through a lifetime of perpetual agony, into the asylum or 
the grave. But no longer will I be their bauble. Humanity, 

| hypocrite that you are — to hell with you. 
[Drinks wine. 
Fedya {having finished his letter). Oh, go away, 

(please. 
Ivan Petrovich. Away? {With a gesture.) Away? 
Me? {With profound resolve.) So be it. {He leans over 
the table, faces Fedya.) I shall away. I'll not deter you 
from accomplishing what I also shall commit — all in its 

proper moment, however. Only I should like to say this 

Fedya. Later. Later. But now, listen, old man, give 



30 REDEMPTION 

this to the head waiter. {Handing him some money.) You 
understand? 

Ivan Petrovich. Yes, but for God's sake wait for me to 
come back. {Moves away.) I've something rare to tell you, 
something you'll never hear in the next world — at least not 

till I get there Look here, shall I give him all this 

money? 

Fedya. No, just what I owe him. 

[Exit Ivan Petrovich, whistling. Fedya sighs 
with a sense of relief, takes the revolver, cocks it, 
stands at mirror on wall up R., and puts it close 
to his temple. Then shivers, and lets his hand 
drop. 

I can't do it. I can't do it. 

[Pause. Masha is heard singing. Masha bursts 
into the room. 

Masha {breathless). I've been everywhere looking for 
you. To Popov's, Afremov's, then I guessed you'd be here. 
{Crosses to him. Sees revolver, turns, faces him quickly, 
concealing it with her body, stands very tense and taut, 
looking at him.) Oh, you fool! You hideous fool! Did 
you think you'd 

Fedya {still completely unnerved). Awful! It's been 

awful! I tried {With a gesture of despair.) I 

couldn't 

[Crosses to table L. C. — leans against it. 

Masha (puts her hand to her face as if terribly hurt). 
As if / didn't exist. (Crosses over to table L. C, puts down 
revolver.) As if I weren't in your life at all. Oh, how 
godless you are! (Brokenly.) Tell me, tell me, what 
about all my love for you? 

Fedya (as if suddenly aware of a great fatigue). I 
wanted to set them free. I promised to — and when the time 
came I couldn't. 

Masha, And what about me? What about me? 

Fedya. I thought you'd be free, too. Surely my tor- 
turing you can't make you happy. 

Masha. Oh, I can look out for myself. Maybe I'd 
rather be unhappy, miserable, wretched with you every 
minute than even think of living without you. 



REDEMPTION 31 

Fedya (up R. — half to himself). If I'd finished just 
now, you would have cried bitterly perhaps, my Masha, but 
you would have lived past it. 

Masha. Oh, damn you, don't be so sure I'd cry at all. 
Can't you even be sorry for me? 

[She tries to conceal her tears. 

Fedya. Oh God, I only wanted to make everybody hap- 
pier. 

Masha. Yourself happier, you mean. 

Fedya {smiling). Would I have been happier to be 
dead now? 

Masha {sulkily). I suppose you would. (Suddenly in 
a tender voice, crossing to him.) But, Fedya, do you know 
what you want? Tell me, what do you want? 

Fedya (R). I want so many things. 

Masha (impatiently and clinging to him). But what? 
What? 

Fedya. First of all, I want to set them free. How can 
I lie? How can I crawl through the muck and filth of a 
divorce? I can't. (Moves to end of table and stands there 
facing front.) But I must set them free somehow. They're 
such good people, my wife and Victor. I can't bear hav- 
ing them suffer. 

Masha (R. of table L. C. — scornfully). Where's the 
good in her if she left you? 

Fedya. She didn't. I left her. 

Masha. She made you think she'd be happier without 

you. But go on (Impatiently.) Blame yourself, what 

else. 

Fedya. There's you, Masha. Young, lovely, awfully 
dear to me. If I stay alive, ah, where will you be? 

Masha. Don't bother about me. You can't hurt me. 

Fedya (sighing). But the big reason, the biggest rea- 
son of all, is myself. I'm just lost. Your father is right, 
my dear. I'm no good. 

Masha (crossing to Mm, at once tenderly and savagely). 
I won't unfasten myself from you. I'll stick to you, no 
matter where you take me, no matter what you do. You're 
alive, terribly alive, and I love you. Fedya, drop all this 
horror. 



32 REDEMPTION 

Fedya. How can I? 

Masha (trying to project the very essence of her vitality 
into him). Oh, you can, you can. 

Fedya {slowly). When I look at you, I feel as though 
I could do anything. 

Masha (proudly, fondly). My love, my love. You 
can do anything, get anywhere you want to. (Fedya moves 
away impatiently up R. She sees letter.) So you have 
been writing to them — to tell them you'll kill yourself. You 
just told them you'd kill yourself, is that it? But you 
didn't say anything about a revolver. Oh, Fedya, let 
me think, there must be some way. Fedya — listen to 
me. Do you remember the day we all went to the 
picnic to the White Lakes with Mama and Afremov and 
the young Cossack officer? And you buried the bottles of 
wine in the sand to keep them cool while we went in bath- 
ing? Do you remember how you took my hands and drew 
me out beyond the waves till the water was quite silent and 
flashing almost up to our throats, and then suddenly it 
seemed as if there were nothing under our feet? We tried to 
get back. We couldn't and you shouted out, "Afremov," 
and if he hadn't been almost beside us and pulled us in — 
and how cross he was with you for forgetting that you 
couldn't swim, and after, how wonderful it was to stretch 
out safely on the sands in the sunlight. Oh, how nice every 
one was to us that day and you kept on being so sorry for 
forgetting you couldn't swim! And, Fedya, don't you see? 
Of course, she must know you can't swim. Oh, it's all get- 
ting as clear as daylight. You will send her this beautiful 
letter. Your clothes will be found on the river bank — but 
instead of being in the river you will be far away with me — 
Fedya, don't you see, don't you see? You will be dead to 
her, but alive for me. (Embraces Fedya.) 
[The lights down and out. 

CURTAIN 



REDEMPTION 33 



Scene vi 



The Protosovs' drawing-room. Karenin and Lisa. 

Karenin {sitting chair R.). He's promised me defi- 
nitely, and I'm sure he'll keep to it. 

Lisa {sitting chair R. C). I'm rather ashamed to con- 
fess it, Victor, but since I found out about this — this gypsy, 
I feel completely free of him. Of course, I am not in the 
least jealous, but knowing this makes me see that I owe 
him nothing more. Am I clear to you, I wonder? 

Karenin {coming closer to her). Yes, dear, I think I'll 
always understand you. 

Lisa {smiling). Don't interrupt me, but let me speak 
as I think. The thing that tortured me most was I seemed 
to love both of you at once, and that made me seem so in- 
decent to myself. 

Karenin {incredulously amused). You indecent? 

Lisa {continuing). But since I've found out that 
there's another woman, that he doesn't need me any more, 
I feel free, quite free of him. And now I can say truth- 
fully, I love you. Because everything is clear in my soul. 
My only worry is the divorce, and all the waiting to be gone 
through before we can Ah, that's torturing. 

Karenin. Dearest, everything will be settled soon. After 
all, he's promised, and I've asked my secretary to go to him 
with the petition and not to leave until he's signed it. 
Really, sometimes, if I didn't know him as I do, I'd think 
he was trying on purpose to discomfort us. 

Lisa. No. No. It's only the same weakness and hon- 
esty fighting together in him. He doesn't want to lie. 
However, I'm sorry you sent him money. 

Karenin. If I hadn't, it might .have delayed things. 

Lisa. I know, but money seems so ugly. 

Karenin {slightly ruffled). I hardly think it's neces- 
sary to be so delicate with Fedya. 

Lisa. Perhaps, perhaps. {Smiling.) But don't you 
think we are becoming very selfish? 

Karenin. Maybe. But it's all your fault, dear. After 
all, this hopelessness and waiting, to think of being happy 
at last! I suppose happiness does make us selfish. 



34 REDEMPTION 

Lisa. Don't believe you're alone in your happiness of 
selfishness. I am so filled with joy it makes me almost 
afraid. Misha's all right, your mother loves me, and above 
all, you are here, close to me, loving me as I love you. 

Karenin (bending over her and searching her eyes). 
You're sure you've no regret? 

Lisa. From the day I found out about that gypsy wom- 
an, my mind underwent a change that has set me free. 

Karenin. You're sure? 
[Kissing her hands. 

Lisa {passionately) . Darling, I've only one desire now, 
and that is to have you forget the past and love as I do. 

[Her little boy toddles in R., sees them and stops. 
[To the child. 

Come here, my sweetheart. 

[He goes to her and she takes him on her knees. 

Karenin. What strange contradictory instincts and de- 
sires make up our beings! 

Lisa. Why? 

Karenin {slowly). I don't know. When I came back 
from abroad, knew I'd lost you, I was unhappy, terribly. 
Yet, it was enough for me to learn that you at least remem- 
bered me. Afterward, when we became friends, and you 
were kind to me, and into our friendship wavered a spark 
of something more than friendship, ah, I was almost happy! 
Only one thing tormented me: fear that such a feeling 
wronged Fedya. Afterwards w 7 hen Fedya tortured you so, 
I saw I could help. Then a certain definite hope sprang 
up in me. And later, when he became impossible and you 
decided to leave him, and I showed you my heart for the 
first time, and you didn't say no, but went away in tears — 
then I was happy through and through. Then came the 
possibility of joining our lives. Mamma loved you. You 
told me you loved me, that Fedya was gone out of your 
heart, out of your life forever, and there was only, only me 
. . . Ah, Lisa, for what more could I ask! Yet the past 
tortured me. Awful fancies would flush up into my happi- 
ness, turning it all into hatred for your past. 

Lisa {interrupting reproachfully) . Victor! 

Karenin. Forgive me, Lisa. I only tell you this because 



REDEMPTION 33 

I don't want to hide a single thought from you. I want you 
to know how bad I am, and what a weakness I've got to 
fight down. But don't worry, I'll get past it. It's all right, 
dear. (He bends over, kissing the child on the head.) And 
I love him, too. 

Lisa. Dearest, I'm so happy. Everything has happened 
in my heart to make it as you'd wish. 
Karenin. All? 
Lisa. All, beloved, or I never could say so. 

[Enter the Nurse L. U. 
Nurse. Your secretary has come back. 

[Lisa and Karenin exchange glances. 
Lisa. Show him in here, nurse, and take Misha, will you? 
Nurse. Come along, my pet. It's time for your rest. 

[Exit nurse with the little boy, R. 
Karenin {gets up, walks to the door). This will be 
Fedya's answer. 

Lisa (kissing Karenin). At last, at last we shall know 
when. (She kisses him.) 

[Enter Voznesensky L. U. 
Karenin. Well? 
Secretary. He's not there, sir. 

Karenin. Not there? He's not signed the petition, then? 
Secretary. No. But here is a letter addressed to you 
and Elizaveta Protosova. 

[Takes letter from his pocket and gives it to 
Karenin. 
Karenin (interrupting angrily). More excuses, more ex- 
cuses. It's perfectly outrageous. How without conscience 

he is. Really, he has lost every claim to 

Lisa. But read the letter, dear; see what he says. 

[Karenin opens the letter. 
Secretary. Shall you need me, sir? 
Karenin. No. That's all. Thank you. 

[Exit Secretary. Karenin reads the letter in 
growing astonishment and concern. Lisa watches 
his face. 
(Reading.) "Lisa, Victor, I write you both without using 
terms of endearment, since I can't feel them, nor can I con- 
quer a sense of bitterness and reproach, self-reproach prin- 



1 



36 REDEMPTION 

cipally, when I think of you together in your love. I know, 
in spite of being the husband, I was also the barrier, pre- 
venting you from coming earlier to one another. C'est moi 
qui suis 1'intrue. I stood in your way, I worried you to 
death. Yet I can't help feeling bitterly, coldly, toward you. 
In one way I love both of you, especially Lisa Lizenska, but 
in reality I am more than cold toward you. Yes, it's unjust, 
isn't it, but to change is impossible." 

Lisa. What's all that for? 

Karenin {standing L. of table C, continuing). "How- 
ever, to the point. I am going to fulfill your wishes in per- 
haps a little different way from what you desire. To lie, 
to act a degrading comedy, to bribe women of the streets 
for evidence — the ugliness of it all disgusts me. I am a 
bad man, but this despicable thing I am utterly unable to 
do. My solution is after all the simplest. You must marry 
to be happy. I am the obstacle, consequently that obstacle 
must be removed." 

Lisa (R. of table). Victor! 

Karenin {reading). Must be removed? "By the time 
this letter reaches you, I shall no longer exist. All I ask you 
is to be happy, and whenever you think of me, think tender 
thoughts. God bless you both. Good-bye. Fedya." 

Lisa. He's killed himself! 

Karenin {going hurriedly up stage L. and calls off). My 
secretary! Call back my secretary! 

Lisa. Fedya! Fedya, darling! 

Karenin. Lisa! 

Lisa. It's not true! It's not true that I've stopped lov- 
ing him! He's the only man in all the world I love! And 
now I've killed him! I've killed him as surely as if I'd 
murdered him with my own two hands! 

Karenin. Lisa, for God's sake! 

Lisa. Stop it! Don't come near me! Don't be angry 
with me, Victor, You see I, too, cannot lie! 

CURTAIN 



ACT II 

Scene i 

A dirty, ill-lighted underground dive; people are lying 
around drinking, sleeping, playing cards and making 
love. Near the front a small table at which Fedya 
sits; he is in rags and has fallen very low. By his side 
is Petushkov, a delicate spiritual man, with long 
yellow hair and beard. Both are rather drunk. 
Candle light is the only lighting in this Scene. 

Petushkov (R. C. of table C). I know. I know. Well, 
that's real love. So what happened then? 

Fedya (L. C. of table C, pensively). You might per- 
haps expect a girl of our own class, tenderly brought up, 
to be capable of sacrificing for the man she loved, but this 
girl was a gypsy, reared in greed, yet she gave me the purest 
sort of self-sacrificing love. She'd have done anything for 
nothing. Such contrasts are amazing. 

Petushkov. I see. In painting we call that value. Only 
to realize bright red fully when there is green around it. 
But that's not the point. What happened? 

Fedya. Oh, we parted. I felt it wasn't right to go on 
taking, taking where I couldn't give. So one night we were 
having dinner in a little restaurant, I told her we'd have to 
say good-bye. My heart was so wrung all the time I could 
hardly help crying. 

Petushkov. And she? 

Fedya. Oh, she was awfully unhappy, but she knew I 
was right. So we kissed each other a long while, and she 

went back to her gypsy troupe (Slowly.) Maybe she 

was glad to go 

[A pause. 

Petushkov. I wonder. 

Fedya. Yes. The single good act of my soul was not 
ruining that girl. 

37 



38 REDEMPTION 

Petushkov. Was it from pity? 

Fedya. I sorry for her? Oh, never. Quite the con- 
trary. I worshipped her unclouded sincerity, the energy 
of her clear, strong will, and God in Heaven, how she sang. 
And probably she is singing now, for some one else. Yes, I 
always looked up at her from beneath, as you do at some 
radiance in the sky. I loved her really. And now it's a 
tender beautiful memory. 

Petushkov. I understand. It was ideal, and you left it 
like that. 

Fedya (ruminatingly) . And I've been attracted often, 
you know. Once I was in love with a grande dame, bes- 
tially in love, dog-like. Well, she gave me a rendezvous, 
and I didn't, couldn't, keep it, because suddenly I thought 
of her husband, and it made me feel sick. And you know, 
it's queer, that now, when I look back, instead of being 
glad that I was decent, I am as sorry as if I had sinned. But 
with Masha it's so different; I'm filled with joy that 
I've never soiled the brightness of my feeling for her. (He 
points his finger at the floor.) I may go much further 
down. 

Petushkov (interrupting). I know so well what you 
mean. But where is she now? 

Fedya. I don't know. I don't want to know. All that 
belongs to another life, and I couldn't bear to mix that life 
and this life. 

[A Police Officer enters from up R., kicks a man 
who is lying on the floor — walks down stage, looks 
at Fedya and Petushkov, then exits. 

Petushkov. Your life's wonderful. I believe you're a 
real idealist. 

Fedya. No. It's awfully simple. You know among our 
class — I mean the class I was born in — there are only three 
courses: the first, to go into the civil service or join the 
army and make money to squander over your sensual appe- 
tites. And all that was appalling to me — perhaps because 
I couldn't do it. The second thing is to live to clear out, 
to destroy what is foul, to make way for the beautiful. But 
for that you've got to be a hero, and I'm not a hero. And 
the third is to forget it all — overwhelm it with music, 



REDEMPTION 39 

drown it with wine. That's what / did. And look 
(he spreads his arms out) where my singing led me 
to. 

[He drinks. 

Petushkov. And what about family life? The sanctity 
of the home and all that — I would have been awfully happy 
if I'd had a decent wife. As it was, she ruined me. 

Fedya. I beg your pardon. Did you say marriage? Oh, 
yes, of course. Well, I've been married, too. Oh, my 
wife was quite an ideal woman. I don't know why I should 
say was, by the way, because she's still living. But there's 

something — I don't know; it's rather difficult to explain 

But you know how pouring champagne into a glass makes 
it froth up into a million iridescent little bubbles? Well, 
there was none of that in our married life. There was no 
fizz in it, no sparkle, no taste, phew! The days were all 
one color — flat and stale and gray as the devil. And that's 
why I wanted to get away and forget. You can't forget 
unless you play. So trying to play I crawled in every sort 
of muck there is. And you know, it's a funny thing, but 
we love people for the good we do them, and we hate them 
for the harm. That's why I hated Lisa. That's why she 
seemed to love me. 

Petushkov. Why do you say seemed? 

Fedya {wistfully). Oh, she couldn't creep into the 
center of my being like Masha. But that's not what I mean. 
Before the baby was born, and afterwards, when she was 
nursing him, I used to stay away for days and days, and 
come back drunk, drunk, and love her less and less each 
time, because I was wronging her so terribly. {Excitedly.) 
Yes. That's it, I never realized it before. The reason why 
I loved Masha was because I did her good, not harm. But 
I crucified my wife, and her contortions filled me almost 
with hatred. 

[Fedya drinks. 

Petushkov. I think I understand. Now in my case 

[Artimiev enters R. U., approaches with a cockade 
on his cap, dyed mustache, and shabby, but care- 
fully mended clothes. 

Artimiev (stands L. of table). Good appetite, gentle- 



40 REDEMPTION 

men! (Bowing to Fedya.) I see youVe made the ac- 
quaintance of our great artist. 

Fedya (coolly). Yes, I have. 

Artimiev (to Petushkov). Have you finished your por- 
trait? 

Petuskkov. No, they didn't give me the commission, 
after all. 

Artimiev (sitting down on end of table). I'm not in 
your way, am I? 

[Fedya and Petushkov don't answer. 

Petushkov. This gentleman was telling me about his 
life. 

Artimiev. Oh, secrets? Then I won't disturb you. Par- 
don me for interrupting. (To himself as he moves away.) 
Damn swine! 

[He goes to the next table, sits down and in the dim 
candlelight he can just be seen listening to the 
conversation. 

Fedya. I don't like that man. 

Petushkov. I think he's offended. 

Fedya. Let him be. I can't stand him. If he'd stayed 
I shouldn't have said a word. Now, it's different with you. 
You make me feel all comfortable, you know. Well, what 
was I saying? 

Petushkov. You were talking about your wife. How 
did you happen to separate? 

Fedya. Oh, that? (A pause.) It's a rather curious 
story. My wife's married. 

Petushkov. Oh, I see! You're divorced. 

Fedya. No. (Smiling.) She's a widow. 

Petushkov. A widow? What do you mean? 

Fedya. I mean exactly what I say. She's a widow. I 
don't exist. 

Petushkov (puzzled) . What? 

Fedya (smiling drunkenly). I'm dead. You're talk- 
ing to a corpse. 

[Artimiev leans towards them and .listens intently. 

Funny, I seem to be able to say anything to you. And 
it's so long ago, so long ago. And what is it after all to 
you but a story? Well, when I got to the climax of tor- 



REDEMPTION 41 

turing my wife, when I'd squandered everything I had or 
could get, and become utterly rotten, then, there appeared 
a protector. 

Petushkov. The usual thing, I suppose? 

Fcdya. Don't think anything filthy about it. He was 
just her friend, mine too, a very good, decent fellow; in 
fact the opposite of myself. He'd known my wife since 
she was a child, and I suppose he'd loved her since then. 
He used to come to our house a lot. First I was very glad 
he did, then I began to see they were falling in love wdth 
each other, and then — an odd thing began to happen to 
me at night. Do you know when she lay there asleep be- 
side me (he laughs shrilly) I would hear him, push- 
ing open the door, crawling into the room, coming to me 
on his hands and knees, grovelling, whining, begging me 
(he is almost shouting) for her, for her. imagine it! And 
I, I had to get up and give my place to him. (He covers 
his eyes with his hands in a convulsive moment,) Phew! 
Then I'd come to myself. 

Petushkov. God! It must have been horrible. 

Fedya (wearily). Well, later on I left her — and after 
a while, they asked me for a divorce. I couldn't bear all the 
lying there was to be got through. Believe me it was easier 
to think of killing myself. And so I tried to commit sui- 
cide, and I tried and I couldn't. Then a kind friend came 
along and said, "Now, don't be foolish!" And she ar- 
ranged the whole business for me. I sent my wife a fare- 
well letter — and the next day my clothes and pocketbook 
were found on the bank of the river. Everybody knew I 
couldn't swim. (Pause.) You understand, don't you? 

Petushkov. Yes, but what about the body? They didn't 
find that? 

Fedya (smiling drunkenly). Oh yes, they did! You 
just listen! About a week afterwards some horror was 
dragged out of the water. My wife was called in to identify 
it. It was in pretty bad shape, you know. She took one 
glance. "Is that your husband?" they asked her. And she 
said, "Yes." Well, that settled it! I was buried, they 
were married, and they're living very happily right here 
in this city. I'm living here, too! We're all living here to- 



42 REDEMPTION 

gether! Yesterday I walked right by their house. The 
windows were lit and somebody's shadow went across the 
blind. (A pause.) Of course there're times when I feel 
like hell about it, but they don't last. The worst is when 
there's no money to buy drinks with. 
[He drinks. 

Artimiev {rising and approaching them). Excuse me, 
but you know I've been listening to that story of yours? 
It's a very good story, and what's more a very useful one. 
You say you don't like being without money, but really 
there's no need of your ever finding yourself in that posi- 
tion. 

Fedya {interrupting). Look here, I wasn't talking to 
you and I don't need your advice! 

Artimiev. But I'm going to give it to you just the same. 
Now you're a corpse. Well, suppose you come to life 
again! 

Fedya. What? 

Artimiev. Then your wife and that fellow she's so hap- 
py with — they'd be arrested for bigamy. The best they'd 
get would be ten years in Siberia. Now you see where you 
can have a steady income, don't you? 

Fedya {furiously). Stop talking and get out of here! 

Artimiev. The best way is to write them a letter. If 
you don't know how I'll do it for you. Just give me their 
address and afterwards when the ruble notes commence to 
drop in, how grateful you'll be! 

Fedya. Get out! Get out, I say! I haven't told you 
anything! 

Artimiev. Oh, yes, you have! Here's my witness! This 
waiter heard you saying you were a corpse! 

Fedya {beside himself). You damn blackmailing 

beast 

[Rising. 

Artimiev. Oh, I'm a beast, am I? We'll see about that! 
(Fedya rises to go, Artimiev seizes him.) Police! Police! 
(Fedya struggles frantically to escape.) 

[The Police enter and drag him away. 

CURTAIN 



REDEMPTION 43 

Scene n 

In the country. A veranda covered by a gay awning; sun- 
light; flowers; Sophia Karenina, Lisa, her little boy 
and nurse. 

Lisa {standing C. in door. To the little boy, smiling). 
Who do you think is on his way from the station? 

Miska {excitedly). Who? Who? 

Lisa. Papa. 

Misha {rapturously). Papa's coming! Papa's com- 
ing! 

[Exits L. through C. door. 

Lisa {contentedly, to Sophia Karenina). How much 
he loves Victor! As if he were his real father! 

Sophia Karenina {on sofa L. knitting — back to audi- 
ence). Tant mieux. Do you think he ever remembers his 
father? 

Lisa {sighing). I can't tell. Of course I've never said 
anything to him. What's the use of confusing his little 
head? Yet sometimes I feel as though I ought. What 
do you think, Mamma? 

Sophia Karenina. I think it's a matter of feeling. If you 
can trust your heart, let it guide you. What extraordinary 
adjustments death brings about! I confess I used to think 
very unkindly of Fedya, when he seemed a barrier to all 
this. {She makes a gesture with her hand.) But now I 
think of him as that nice boy who was my son's friend, and 
a man who was capable of sacrificing himself for those 
he loved. {She knits.) I hope Victor hasn't forgotten to 
bring me some wool. 

Lisa. Here he comes. (Lisa runs to the edge of the 
veranda.) There's some one with him — a lady in a bon- 
net! Oh, it's mother! How splendid! I haven't seen her 
for an age! 

[Enter Anna Pavlovna up C. 

Anna Pavlovna {kissing Lisa). My darling. {To 
Sophia Karenina.) How do you do? Victor met me and 
insisted on my coming down. 

[Sits bench L. C. beside Sophia. 

Sophia Karenina. This is perfectly charming! 



44 REDEMPTION 

[Enter Victor and Misha. 

Anna Pavlovna. I did want to see Lisa and the boy. So 
now, if you don't turn me out, I'll stay till the evening 
train. 

Karenin (L. C, kissing his wife, his mother and the 
boy). Congratulate me — everybody — I've a bit of luck. I 
don't have to go to town again for two days. Isn't that 
wonderful? 

Lisa (R. C). Two days! That's glorious! We'll 
drive over to the Hermitage to-morrow and show it to 
mother. 

Anna Pavlovna (holding the boy). He's so like his 
father, isn't he? I do hope he hasn't inherited his father's 
disposition. 

Sophia Karenina. After all, Fedya's heart was in the 
right place. 

Lisa. Victor thinks if he'd only been brought up more 
carefully everything would have been different. 

Anna Pavlovna. Well, I'm not so sure about that, but I 
do feel sorry for him. I can't think of him without wanting 
to cry. 

Lisa. I know. That's how Victor and I feel. All the 
bitterness is gone. There's nothing left but a very tender 
memory. 

Anna Pavlovna {sighing). I'm sure of it. 

Lisa. Isn't it funny? It all seemed so hopeless back 
there, and now see how beautifully everything's come out! 

Sophia Karenina. Oh, by the way, Victor, did you get 
my wool? 

Karenin. I certainly did. (Brings a bag and takes out 
parcels.) Here's the wool, here's the eau-de-cologne, here 
are the letters — one on "Government Service" for you, Lisa 

(Hands her the letter. Lisa opens letter, then strolls 

R. reading it, suddenly stops.) Well, Anna Pavlovna, I 
know you want to make yourself beautiful! I must tidy 
up, too. It's almost dinner time. Lisa, you've put your 
saother in the Blue Room, haven't you? 
[Pause. 

[Lisa is pale. She holds the letter with trembling 
hands and reads it, Karenin seeing her. 



REDEMPTION 45 

What's the matter, Lisa? What is it? 

Lisa. He's alive. He's alive. My God! I shall never 
be free from him. (Victor crosses to Lisa.) What does 
this mean? What's going to happen to us? 

Karenin {taking the letter and reading). I don't be- 
lieve it. 

Sophia Karenina. What is it? (Rising.) What's the 
matter? Why don't you tell us? 

Karenin. He's alive! They're accusing us of bigamy! 
It's a summons for Lisa to go before the Examining Magis- 
trate. 

Anna Pavlovna. No — no! It can't be! 

Sophia Karenina. Oh, that horrible man! 

Karenin. So it was all a lie! 

Lisa (with a cry of rage). Oh! I hate him so! Vic- 
tor! — Fedya! My God! I don't know what Fm say- 
ing. I don't know what I'm saying. 
[Sinks in chair down R. 

Anna Pavlovna (rising). He's not really alive?^ 
[Lights dim and out. 

CURTAIN 



Scene hi 

The room of the examining magistrate, who sits at a table 
talking to Melnikov, a smartly dressed, languid, man- 
about-town. 
At a side-table a Clerk is sorting papers. 

Magistrate (sitting R. of table R. C). Oh, I never 
said so. It's her own notion. And now she is reproaching 
me with it. 

Melnikov (sitting C. back to audience). She's not re- 
proaching you, only her feelings are awTully hurt. 

Magistrate. Are they? Oh, well, tell her I'll come to 
supper after the performance. But you'd better wait on. 
I've rather an interesting case. (To the Clerk.) Here, 
you, show them in. 

Clerk (sitting C. facing audience). Both? Excellency. 

Magistrate. No, only Madame Karenina. 



46 REDEMPTION 

[Clerk exits L. i. 

Clerk (calling off stage). Madame Protosova, Madame 
Protosova. 

Magistrate. Or, to dot my i's, Madame Protosova. 

Melnikov (starting to go out). Ah, it's the Karenin 
case. 

Magistrate. Yes, and an ugly one. I'm just beginning 
the investigation. But I assure you it's a first-rate scan- 
dal already. Must you go? Well, see you at supper. Good- 
bye. 

[Exit Melnikov, R. 

[The Clerk shows in Lisa; she wears a black dress 
and veil. 

Magistrate. Please sit down, won't you? (He points 
to a chair L. C. Lisa sits down.) I am extremely sorry 
that it's necessary to ask you questions. 

[Lisa appears very much agitated. Magistrate ap- 
pears unconcerned and is reading a newspaper as 
he speaks. 

But please be calm. You needn't answer them unless 
you wish. Only in the interest of every one concerned, I 
advise you to help me reach the entire truth. 

Lisa. I've nothing to conceal. 

Magistrate (looking at papers). Let's see. Your 
name, station, religion. I've got all that. You are accused 
of contracting a marriage with another man, knowing your 
first husband to be alive. 

Lisa. But I did not know it. 

Magistrate (continuing). And also you are accused of 
having persuaded with bribes your first husband to commit 
a fraud, a pretended suicide, in order to rid yourself of 
him. 

Lisa. All that's not true. 

Magistrate. Then permit me to ask you these questions: 
Did you or did you not send him 1200 rubles in July of 
last year? 

Lisa. That was his own money obtained from selling 
his things, which I sent to him during our separation, while 
I was waiting for my divorce. 

Magistrate. Just so. Very well. When the police asked 



REDEMPTION 47 

you to identify the corpse, how were you sure it was your 
husband's? 

Lisa. Oh, I was so terribly distressed that I couldn't 
bear to look at the body. Besides, I felt so sure it was he, 
and when they asked me, I just said yes. 

Magistrate. Very good indeed. I can well understand 
your distraction, and permit me to observe, Madame, that 
although servants of the law, we remain human beings, and 
I beg you to be assured that I sympathize with your situa- 
tion. You were bound to a spendthrift, a drunkard, a man 
whose dissipation caused you infinite misery. 

Lisa {interrupting). Please, I loved him. 

Magistrate {tolerantly). Of course. Yet naturally you 
desired to be free, and you took this simple course with- 
out counting the consequence, which is considered a crime, 
or bigamy. I understand you, and so will both judges and 
jury. And it's for this reason, Madam, I urge you to dis- 
close the entire truth. 

Lisa. I've nothing to disclose. I never have lied. {She 
begins to cry.) Do you want me any longer? 

Magistrate. Yes. I must ask you to remain a few min- 
utes longer. No more questions, however. {To the Clerk.) 
Show in Victor Karenin. {To Lisa.) I think you'll find 
that a comfortable chair. {Sits L. C.) 

[Enter Karenin, stern and solemn. 

Please sit down. 

Karenin. Thank you. {He remains standing L. U.) 
What do you want from me? 

Magistrate. I have to take your deposition. 

Karenin. In what capacity? 

Magistrate {smiling). In my capacity of investigating 
magistrate. You are here, you know, because you are 
charged with a crime. 

Karenin. Really? What crime? 

Magistrate. Bigamy, since you've married a woman al- 
ready married. But I'll put the questions to you in their 
proper order. Sure you'll not sit down? 

Karenin. Quite sure. 

Magistrate {writing). Your name? 

Karenin. Victor Karenin 



48 REDEMPTION 

Magistrate. Rank? 

Karenin. Chamberlain of the Imperial Court. 

Magistrate. Your age? 

Karenin. Thirty-eight. 

Magistrate . Religion ? 

Karenin. Orthodox, and I've never been tried before 
of any charge. {Pause.) What else? 

Magistrate. Did you know that Fedor Protosov was 
alive when you married his wife? 

Karenin. No, we were both convinced that he was 
drowned. 

Magistrate. All right. And why did you send 1200 rubles 
to him a few days before he simulated death on July 17th? 

Karenin. That money was given me by my wife. 

Magistrate (interrupting him). Excuse me, you mean 
by Madame Protosova. 

Karenin. By my wife to send to her husband. She con- 
sidered this money his property, and having broken off all 
relations with him,' felt it unjust to withhold it. What else 
do you want? 

Magistrate. I don't want anything, except to do my 
official duty, and to aid you in doing yours, through caus- 
ing you to tell me the whole truth, in order that your inno- 
cence be proved. You'd certainly better not conceal things 
which are sure to be found out, since Protosov is in such 
a weakened condition, physically and mentally, that he is 
certain to come out with the entire truth as soon as he 
gets into court, so from your point of view I advise . . . 

Karenin. Please don't advise me, but remain within the 
limits of your official capacity. Are we at liberty to leave? 
[He goes to Lisa who takes, his arm. 

Magistrate. Sorry, but it's necessary to detain you. 
(Karenin looks around in astonishment.) No, I've no in- 
tention of arresting you, although it might be a quicker 
way of reaching the truth. I merely want to take Proto- 
sov's deposition in your presence, to confront him with 
you, that you may facilitate your chances by proving his 
statements to be false. Kindly sit down. (To Clerk.) 
Show in Fedor Protosov. 

[There is a pause. The Clerk shows in Fedya in 



REDEMPTION 49 

rags, a total wreck. He enters slowly, dragging 
his feet. He catches sight of his wife, who is 
bowed in grief. For a moment he is about to take 
her in his arms — he hesitates — then stands before 
the Magistrate. 

Magistrate. I shall ask you to answer some questions. 

Fedya (rises, confronting the Magistrate). Ask them. 

Magistrate. Your name? 

Fedya. You know it. 

Magistrate. Answer my questions exactly, please. 
[Rapping on his desk. 

Fedya {shrugs). Fedor Protosov. 

Magistrate. Your rank, age, religion? 

Fedya (silent for a moment). Aren't you ashamed to 
ask me these absurd questions? Ask me what you need 
to know, only that. 

Magistrate. I shall ask you to take care how you ex- 
press yourself. 

Fedya. Well, since you're not ashamed. My rank, grad- 
uate o£ the University of Moscow; age 40; religion ortho- 
dox. What else? 

Magistrate. Did Victor Karenin and Elizaveta Andrey- 
evna know you were alive when you left your clothes on the 
bank of the river and disappeared? 

Fedya. Of course not. I really wished to commit sui- 
cide. But — however, why should I tell you? The fact's 
enough. They knew nothing of it. 

Magistrate. You gave a somewhat different account to 
the police officer. How do you explain that? 

Fedya. Which police officer? Oh yes, the one who ar- 
rested me in that dive. I was drunk, and I lied to him — 
about what, I don't remember. But I'm not drunk now and 
I'm telling you the whole truth. They knew nothing; they 
thought I was dead, and I was glad of it. Everything 
would have stayed all right except for that damned beast 
Artimiev. So if any one's guilty, it's I. 

Magistrate. I perceive you wish to be generous. Unfor- 
tunately the law demands the truth. Come, why did you 
receive money from them? 
\ Fedya is silent. 



SO REDEMPTION 

Why don't you answer me? Do you realize that it will 
be stated in your deposition that the accused refused to 
answer these questions, and that will harm (he includes Lisa 
and Victor in a gesture) all of you? 
[Fedya remains silent. 

Aren't you ashamed of your stubborn refusal to aid these 
others and yourself by telling the entire truth? 

Fedya {breaking out passionately). The truth Oh, 

God! what do you know about the truth? Your business 
is crawling up into a little power, that you may use it by 
tantalizing, morally and physically, people a thousand times 
better than you .... You sit there in your smug author- 
ity torturing people. 

Magistrate. I must ask you 

Fedya (interrupts him). Don't ask me for I'll speak 
as I feel. (Turning to Clerk.) And you write it down. 
So for once some human words will get into a deposition. 
[Raising his voice, which ascends to a climax during 
this speech. 

There were three human beings alive: I, he, and she. 
[He turns to his wife with a gesture indicating his 
love for her. He pauses, then proceeds. 

We all bore towards one another a most complex rela- 
tion. We were all engaged in a spiritual struggle beyond 
your comprehension: the struggle between anguish and 
peace; between falsehood and truth. Suddenly this struggle 
ended in a way that set us free. Everybody was at peace. 
They loved my memory, and I was happy even in my down- 
fall, because I'd done what should have been done, and 
cleared away my weak life from interfering with their strong 
good lives. And yet we're all alive. When suddenly a bas- 
tard adventurer appears, who demands that I abet his filthy 
scheme. I drive him off as I would a diseased dog, but he 
finds you, the defender of public justice, the appointed 
guardian of morality, to listen to him. And you, who re- 
ceive on the 20th of each month a few kopeks' gratuity 
for your wretched business, you get into your uniform, and 
in good spirits proceed to torture — bully people whose 
threshold you're not clean enough to pass. Then when 
you've had your fill of showing off your wretched power, 



REDEMPTION 51 

oh, then you are satisfied, and sit and smile there in your 
damned complacent dignity. And . . . 

Magistrate {raising his voice. Rising excitedly). Be 
silent or I'll have you turned out. 

Fedya. God! Who should / be afraid of! I'm dead, 
dead, and away out of your power. {Suddenly overcome 
with the horror of the situation.) What can you do to me? 
How can you punish me — a corpse? 
[Beating his breast. 
Magistrate. Be silent! {To Clerk, who is down L.) 
Take him out ! 

[Fedya turns, seeing his wife, he falls on his knees 
before her. . . kisses the hem of her dress, crying 
bitterly. 
[Slowly he rises, pulls himself together with a great 

effort, then exits L. 
[The lights dim and out. 

CURTAIN 



Scene iv 

A corridor in the lower courts; in the background a door 
opposite which stands a Guard; to the right is another 
door through which the Prisoners are conducted to 
the court. Ivan Petrovich in rags enters L., goes to 
this last door, trying to pass through it. 
Guard {at door R. C). Where do you think you're 
going, shoving in like that? 

Ivan Petrovich Why shouldn't I? The law says these 
sessions are public. 

Guard. You can't get by and that's enough. 
Ivan Petrovich {in pity). Wretched peasant, you have 
no idea to whom you are speaking. 
Guard. Be silent! 

[Enter a Young Lawyer from R. i. 
Lawyer {to Petrovich). Are you here on business? 
Ivan Petrovich. No. I'm the public. But this wretched 
peasant won't let me pass. 

Lawyer. There's no room for the public at this trial. 



52 REDEMPTION 

Ivan Petrovich. Perhaps, but I am above the general 
rule. 

Lawyer. Well, you wait outside; they'll adjourn pres- 
ently. 

[He is just going into courtroom through door R. C, 
when Prince Sergius enters L. and stops him. 

Prince Sergius. How does the case stand? 

Lawyer. The defense has just begun. Petrushin is 
speaking now. 

Prince Sergius. Are the Karenins bearing up well? 

Lawyer. Yes, with extraordinary dignity. They look as 
if they were the judges instead of the accused. That's felt 
all the way through, and Petrushin is taking advantage of 
it. 

Prince Sergius. What of Protosov? 

Lawyer. He's frightfully unnerved, trembling all over, 
but that's natural considering the sort of life he's led. Yes, 
he's all on edge, and he's interrupted both judge and jury 
several times already. 

Prince Sergius. How do you think it will end? 

Lawyer. Hard to say. The jury are mixed. At any 
rate I don't think they'll find the Karenins guilty of pre- 
meditation. Do you want to go in? 

Prince Sergius. I should very much like to. 

Lawyer. Excuse me, you're Prince Sergius Abreskov, 
aren't you? (To the Prince.) There's an empty chair just 
at the left. 

[The guard lets Prince Sergius pass. 

Ivan Petrovich. Prince! Bah! I am an aristocrat of 
the soul, and that's a higher title. 

Lawyer. Excuse me. 

[And exits down R. C. into courtroom. 
[Petushkov, Fedya's companion in the dive, enters 
approaching Ivan Petrovich. 

Petushkov (R.). Oh, there you are. Well, how're 
things going? 

Ivan Petrovich (L.). The speeches for the defense have 
begun, but this ignorant rascal won't let us in. Curse his 
damned petty soul. 

Guard (C.) Silence! Where do you think you are? 



REDEMPTION 53 

[Further applause is heard; door of the court opens, 
and there is a rush of lawyers and the general 
public into the corridor. 
A Lady. Oh, it's simply wonderful! When he spoke I 
felt as if my heart were breaking. 

An Officer. It's all far better than a novel. But I don't 
see how she could ever have loved him. Such a sinister, 
horrible figure. 

[The other door opens over L.; the accused comes 
out. 
The Lady {this group is down R.). Hush! There he 
is. See how wild he looks. 

Fedya {seeing Ivan Petrovich). Did you bring it? 

[Goes to Petrovich. 
Petrovich. There. 

[He hands Fedya something; Fedya hides it in his 
pocket. 
Fedya {seeing Petushkov). How foolish! How vul- 
gar and how boring all this is, isn't it? 

[Men and women enter door L. and stand down L. 

watching. 
[Enter Petrushin, from R. C, Fedya's counsel, a 
stout man with red cheeks; very animated. 
Petrushin {rubbing his hands). Well, well, my friend. 
It's going along splendidly. Only remember, don't go and 
spoil things for me in your last speech. 

Fedya {takes him by the arm). Tell me, what'll the 
worst be? 

Petrushin. I've already told you. Exile to Siberia. 
Fedya. Who'll be exiled to Siberia? 
Petrushin. You and your wife, naturally. 
Fedya. And at the best? 

Petrushin. Religious pardon and the annulment of the 
second marriage. 

Fedya. You mean — that we should be bound again — 

to one another 

Petrushin. Yes. Only try to collect yourself. Keep 
up your courage. After all, there's no occasion for alarm. 
Fedya. There couldn't be any other sentence, you're 
sure? 



54 REDEMPTION 

Petrushin. None other. None other. 

[Exits R. i. Fedya stands motionless. 
Guard (crosses and exits L. i. Calling). Pass on. 
Pass on. No loitering in the corridor. 

[Victor and Lisa enter from door L. Start to go 
off L. when pistol shot stops them. 
Fedya (He turns his back to the audience, and from be- 
neath his ragged coat shoots himself in the heart. There is 
a muffled explosion, smoke. He crumples up in a heap on 
the floor. All the people in the passage rush to him.) 
(In a very low voice.) This time — it's well done. . . . 
Lisa. . . . 

[People are crowding in from all the doors, judges, 
etc. Lisa rushes to Fedya, Karenin, Ivan Pet- 
rovich and Prince Sergius follow. 
Lisa. Fedya! . . . Fedya! . . . What have you done? 
Oh why! . . . why! . . . 

Fedya. Forgive me No other way Not for 

you — but for myself 

Lisa. You will live. You must live. 

Fedya. No — no Good-bye (He seems to smile, 

then he mutters just under his breath.) Masha. 

[In the distance the gypsies are heard singing "No 
More at Evening." They sing until the curtain. 

You're too late 

[Suddenly he raises his head from Lisa's knees, and 
barely utters as if he saw something in front of 
him. 
Ah. . . . Happiness! . . . 

[His head falls from Lisa's knees to the ground. 
She still clings to it, in grief and horror. He dies. 
{The lights dim and out.] 

CURTAIN 



THE POWER OF DARKNESS 

OR 
IF A CLAW IS CAUGHT THE BIRD IS LOST 



CHARACTERS 

Peter Ignatttch. A well-to-do peasant, 42 years old, married 
for the second time, and sickly. 

Anisya. His wife, 32 years old, fond of dress. 

Akoulina. Peter's daughter by his first marriage, 16 years 
old, hard of hearing, mentally undeveloped. 

Nan (Anna Petrovna). His daughter by his second mar- 
riage, 10 years old. 

Nikita. Their laborer, 25 years old, fond of dress. 

Akim. Nikita's father, 50 years old, a plain-looking, God- 
fearing peasant. 

Matryona. His wife and Nikita's mother, 50 years old. 

Marina. An orphan girl, 22 years old. 

Martha. Peter's sister. 

Mitritch. An old laborer, ex-soldier. 

Simon. Marina's husband. 

Bridegroom. Engaged to Akoulina. 

Ivan. His father. 

A Neighbor. 

First Girl. 

Second Girl. 

Police Officer. 

Driver. 

Best Man. 

Matchmaker. 

Village Elder. 

Visitors, Women, Girls, and People come to see the wedding. 

N.B. — The "oven" mentioned is the usual large, brick, Russian 
baking-oven. The top of it outside is flat, so that more than one 
person can lie on it. 



56 



ACT I 

The Act takes place in autumn in a large village. The Scene 
represents Peter's roomy hut. Peter is sitting on a 
wooden bench, mending a horse-collar. Anisya 
and Akoulina are spinning, and singing a part-song. 

Peter {looking out of the window). The horses have 
got loose again. If we don't look out they'll be killing the 
colt. Nikita! Hey, Nikita! Is the fellow deaf? (Listens, 
To the women.) Shut up, one can't hear anything. 

Nikita (from outside). What? 

Peter. Drive the horses in. 

Nikita. We'll drive 'em in. All in good time. 

Peter (shaking his head). Ah, these laborers! If I 
were well, I'd not keep one on no account. There's noth- 
ing but bother with 'em. (Rises and sits down again.) 
Nikita! . . . It's no good shouting. One of you'd better 
go. Go, Akoul, drive 'em in. 

Akoulina. What? The horses? 

Peter. What else? 

Akoulina. All right. 
[Exit. 

Peter. Ah, but he's a loafer, that lad . . . no good at 
all. Won't stir a finger if he can help it. 

Anisya. You're so mighty brisk yourself. When you're 
not sprawling on the top of the oven you're squatting on the 
bench. To goad others to work is all you're fit for. 

Peter. If one weren't to goad you on a bit, one'd have 
no roof left over one's head before the year's out. Oh, what 
people! 

Anisya. You go shoving a dozen jobs on to one's shoul- 
ders, and then do nothing but scold. It's easy to lie on the 
oven and give orders. 

Peter (sighing). Oh, if 'twere not for this sickness that's 
got hold of me, I'd not keep him on another day. 



58 THE POWER OF DARKNESS 

Akoulina (off the scene). Gee up, gee, woo. 

[A colt neighs, the stamping of horses' feet and the 
creaking of the gate are heard. 

Peter. Bragging, that's what he's good at. I'd like to 
sack him, I would indeed. 

Anisya (mimicking him). "Like to sack him." You 
buckle to yourself, and then talk. 

Akoulina (enters). It's all I could do to drive 'em 
in. That piebald always will . . . 

Peter. And where's Nikita? 

Akoidina. Where's Nikita? Why, standing out there 
in the street. 

Peter. What's he standing there for? 

Akoulina. What's he standing there for? He stands 
there jabbering. 

Peter. One can't get any sense out of her! Who's he 
jabbering with? 

Akoulina (does not hear). Eh, what? 

[Peter waves her off. She sits down to her spinning. 

Nan (running in to her mother). Nikita's father and 
mother have come. They're going to take him away. It's 
true! 

Anisya. Nonsense! 

Nan. Yes. Blest if they're not! (Laughing.) I was 
just going by, and Nikita, he says, "Good-bye, Anna 
Petrovna," he says, "you must come and dance at my 
wedding. I'm leaving you," he says, and laughs. 

Anisya (to her husband). There now. Much he cares. 
You see, he wants to leave of himself. "Sack him" 
indeed! 

Peter. Well, let him go. Just as if I couldn't find 
somebody else. 

Anisya. And what about the money he's had in ad- 
vance? 

[Nan stands listening at the door for awhile, and 
then exit. 

Peter (frowning). The money? Well, he can work it 
off in summer, anyhow. 

Anisya. Well, of course you'll be glad if he goes and 
you've not got to feed him. It's only me as'll have to 



THE POWER GF DARKNESS 59 

work like a horse all the winter. That lass of yours isn't 
over fond of work either. And you'll be lying up on the 
oven. I know you. 

Peter. What's the good of wearing out one's tongue 
before one has the hang of the matter? 

Anisya. The yard's full of cattle. You've not sold the 
cow, and have kept all the sheep for the winter: feeding and 
watering 'em alone takes all one's time, and you want to 
sack the laborer. But I tell you straight, I'm not going to 
do a man's work! I'll go and lie on the top of the oven 
same as you, and let everything go to pot! You may do, 
what you like. 

Peter (to Akotdina). Go and see about the feeding, 
will you? it's time. 

Akoulina. The feeding? All right. 
[Puts on a coat and takes a rope. 

Anisya. I'm not going to work for you. You go and 
work yourself. I've had enough of it, so there! 

Peter. That'll do. What are you raving about? Like« 
a sheep with the staggers! 

Anisya * You're a crazy cur, you are! One gets neither 
work nor pleasure from you. Eating your fill, that's all 
you do, you palsied cur, you! 

Peter {spits and puts on coat) . Faugh! The Lord have 
mercy! I'd better go myself and see what's up. 
[Exit. 

Anisya {after him). Scurvy long-nosed devil! 

Akoulina. What are you swearing at dad for? 

Anisya. Hold your noise, you idiot! 

Akoulina (going to the door). I know why you're- 
swearing at him. You're an idiot yourself, you bitch. I'm 
not afraid of you. 

Anisya. What do you mean? (Jumps up and looks 
round for something to kit her with.) Mind, or I'll give 
you one with the poker. 

Akotdina (opening the door). Bitch! devil! that's 
what you are! Devil! bitch! bitch! devil! 
[Runs off. 

Anisya (ponders). "Come and dance at my wedding!" 
What new plan is this? Marry? Mind, Nikita, if that's 



60 THE POWER OF DARKNESS 

your intention, I'll go and . . . No, I can't live without 
him. I won't let him go. 

Nikita {enters, looks round, and, seeing Anisya alone, 
approaches quickly. In a low tone). Here's a go; I'm in a 
regular fix! That governor of mine wants to take me away, 
— tells me I'm to come home. Says quite straight I'm to 
marry and live at home. 

Anisya. Well, go and marry! What's that to me? 

Nikita. Is that it? Why, here am I reckoning how best 
to consider matters, and just hear her! She tells me to go 
and marry. Why's that? (Winking.) Has she for- 
gotten? 

Anisya. Yes, go and marry! What do I care? 

Nikita. What are you spitting for? Just see, she won't 
even let me stroke her. . . . ^What's the matter? 

Anisya. This! That you want to play me false. . . . 
If you do, — why, I don't want you either. So now you 
know! 

Nikita. That'll do, Anisya. Do you think I'll forget 
you? Never while I live! I'll not play you false, that's 
flat. Pve been thinking that supposing they do go and 
make me marry, I'd still come back to you. If only he 
don't make me live at home. 

Anisya, Much need I'll have of you, once you're mar- 
ried. 

Nikita. There's a go now. How is it possible to go 
against one's father's will? 

Anisya. Yes, I daresay, shove it all on your father. You 
know it's your own doing. You've long been plotting with 
that slut of yours, Marina. It's she has put you up to it. 
She didn't come here for nothing t'other day. 

Nikita. Marina? What's she to me? Much I care 
about her! . . . Plenty of them buzzing around. 

Anisya. Then what has made your father come here? 
It's you have told him to. You've gone and deceived me. 
[Cries. 

Nikita. Anisya, do you believe in a God or not? I 
never so much as dreamt of it. I know nothing at all about 
it. I never even dreamt of it— that's flat. My old dad 
has got it all out of his own pate. 






THE POWER OF DARKNESS 61 



Anisya. If you don't wish it yourself who can force you? 
He can't drive you like an ass. 

Nikita. Well, I reckon it's not possible to go against 
one's parent. But it's not by my wish. 

Anisya. Don't you budge, that's all about it! 

Nikita. There was a fellow wouldn't budge, and the vil- 
lage elder gave him such a hiding. . . . That's what it 
might come to! I've no great wish for that sort of thing. 
They say it touches one up. . . . 

Anisya. Shut up with your nonsense. Nikita, listen to 
me: if you marry that Marina I don't know what I won't 
do to myself. ... I shall lay hands on myself! I have 
sinned, I have gone against the law, but I can't go back 
now. If you go away I'll . . . 

Nikita. Why should I go? Had I wanted to go — I 
should have gone long ago. There was Ivan Semyonitch 
t'other day — offered me a place as his coachman. . . . 
Only fancy what a life that would have been! But I did 
not go. Because, I reckon, I am good enough for any one. 
Now if you did not love me it would be a different matter. 

Anisya. Yes, and that's what you should remember. 
My old man will die one of these fine days, I'm thinking; 
then we could cover our sin, make it all right and lawful, 
and then you'll be master here. 

Nikita. Where's the good of making plans? What do 
I care? I work as hard as if I were doing it for myself. 
My master loves me, and his missus loves me. And if the 
wenches run after me, it's not my fault, that's flat. 

Anisya. And you'll love me? 

Nikita (embracing her). There, as you have ever been 
in my heart . . . 

Matryona (enters and crosses herself a long time before 
the icon. Nikita and Anisya step apart). What I saw I 
didn't perceive, what I heard, I didn't hearken to. Play- 
ing with the lass, eh? Well, — even a calf will play. Why 
shouldn't one have some fun when one's young? But your 
master is out in the yard a-calling you, sonny. 

Nikita. I only came to get the axe. 

Matryona. I know, sonny, I know; them sort of axes 
are mostly to be found where the women are. 



62 THE POWER OF DARKNESS 

Nikita {stooping to pick up axe), I say, mother, is it 
true you want me to marry? As I reckon, that's quite un- 
necessary. Besides, I've got no wish that way. 

Matryona. Eh, honey! why should you marry? Go on 
as you are. It's all the old man. You'd better go, sonny; 
we can talk these matters over without you. 

Nikita. It's a queer go! One moment I'm to be mar- 
ried, the next, not. I can't make head or tail of it. 
[Exit. 

Antsy a. What's it all about, then? Do you really wish 
him to get married? 

Matryona. Eh, why should he marry, my jewel? It's 
all nonsense, all my old man's drivel. "Marry, marry." 
But he's reckoning without his host. You know the saying, 
"From oats and hay, why should horses stray?" When 
you've enough to spare, why look elsewhere? And so in this 
case. (Winks.) Don't I see which way the wind blows? 

Anisya. Where's the good of my pretending to you, 
Mother Matryona? You know all about it. I have sinned. 
I love your son. 

Matryona. Dear me, here's news! D'you think Mother 
Matryona didn't know? Eh, lassie, — Mother Matryona's 
been ground, and ground again, ground fine! This much 
I can tell you, my jewel: Mother Matryona can see through 
a brick wall three feet thick. I know it all, my jewel! I 
know what young wives need sleeping draughts for, so I've 
brought some along. 

[Unties a knot in her handkerchief and brings out 
paper-packets. 

As much as is wanted, I see, and what's not wanted I 
neither see nor perceive! There! Mother Matryona has 
also been young. I had to know a thing or two to live with 
my old fool. I know seventy-and-seven dodges. But I see 
your old man's quite seedy, quite seedy! How's one to live 
with such as him? Why, if you pricked him with a hay- 
fork it wouldn't fetch blood. See if you don't bury him 
before the spring. Then you'll need some one in the house. 
Well, what's wrong with my son? He'll do as well as an- 
other. Then where's the advantage of my taking him away 
from a good place? Am I my child's enemy? 



THE POWER OF DARKNESS 63 

Antsy a. Oh, if only he does not go away! 

Matryona. He won't go away, birdie. It's all nonsense. 
You know my old man. His wits are always wool-gather- 
ing; yet sometimes he takes a thing into his pate, and it's 
as if it were wedged in, you can't knock it out with a ham- 
mer. 

Anisya. And what started this business? 

Matryona. Well, you see, my jewel, you yourself know 
what a fellow with women the lad is, — and he's handsome 
too, though I say it as shouldn't. Well, you know, he was 
living at the railway, and they had an orphan wench there 
to cook for them. Well, that same wench took to running 
after him. 

Anisya. Marina? 

Matryona. Yes, the plague seize her! Whether any- 
thing happened or not, anyhow something got to my old 
man's ears. Maybe he heard from the neighbors, maybe 
she's been and blabbed . . . 

Anisya. Well, she is a bold hussy! 

Matryona. So my old man — the old blockhead — off he 
goes: "Marry, marry," he says, "he must marry her and 
cover the sin," he says. "We must take the lad home," 
he says, "and he shall marry," he says. Well, I did my 
best to make him change his mind, but, dear me, no. So, 
all right, thinks I, — I'll try another dodge. One always has 
to entice them fools in this way, just pretend to be of their 
mind, and when it comes to the point one goes and turns 
it all one's own way. You know, a woman has time to 
think seventy-and-seven thoughts while falling off the oven, 
so how's such as he to see through it? "Well, yes," says I, 
"it would be a good job, — only we must consider well be- 
forehand. Why not go and see our son, and talk it over 
with Peter Ignatitch and hear what he has to say?" So 
here we are. 

Anisya. Oh dear, oh dear, how will it all end? Sup- 
posing his father just orders him to marry her? 

Matryona. Orders, indeed! Chuck his orders to the 
dogs! Don't you worry; that affair will never come off. 
I'll go to your old man myself, and sift and strain this mat- 
ter clear — there will be none of it left. I have come here 



64 THE POWER OF DARKNESS 

only for the look of the thing. A very likely thing! Here's 
my son living in happiness and expecting happiness, and 
I'll go and match him with a slut! No fear, I'm not a fool! 

Anisya. And she — this Marina — came dangling after 
him here! Mother, would you believe, when they said he 
was going to marry, it was as if a knife had gone right 
through my heart. I thought he cared for her. 

Matryona. Oh, my jewel! Why, you don't think him 
such a fool, that he should go and care for a homeless bag- 
gage like that? Nikita is a sensible fellow, you see. He 
knows whom to love. So don't you go and fret, my jewel. 
We'll not take him away, and we won't marry him. No, 
we'll let him stay on, if you'll only oblige us with a little 
money. 

Anisya. All I know is, that I could not live if Nikita 
went aw T ay. 

Matryona. Naturally, when one's young it's no easy 
matter! You, a wench in full bloom, to be living with the 
dregs of a man like that husband of yours. 

Anisya. Mother Matryona, would you believe it? I'm 
that sick of him, that sick of this long-nosed cur of mine, 
I can hardly bear to look at him. 

Matryona. Yes, I see, it's one of them cases. Just look 
here. {Looks round and whispers.) I've been to see that old 
man, you know he's given me simples of two kinds. This, 
you see, is a sleeping draught. "Just give him one of these 
powders," he says, "and he'll sleep so sound you might 
jump on him! " And this here, "This is that kind of simple," 
he says, "that if you give one some of it to drink it has 
no smell whatever, but its strength is very great. There are 
seven doses here, a pinch at a time. Give him seven pinches," 
he says, "and she won't have far to look for freedom," he 
says. 

Anisya. O-o-oh! What's that? 

Matryona. "No sign whatever," he says. He's taken a 
rouble for it. "Can't sell it for less," he says. Because it's 
no easy matter to get 'em, you know. I paid him, dearie, 
out of my own money. If she takes them, thinks I, it's all 
right; if she don't, I can let old Michael's daughter have 
them. 



THE POWER OF DARKNESS 65 

Antsy a. O-o-oh! But mayn't some evil come of them? 
I'm frightened! 

Matryona. What evil, my jewel? If your old man was 
hale and hearty, 'twould be a different matter, but he's 
neither alive nor dead as it is. He's not for this world. 
Such things often happen. 

Antsy a. O-o-oh, my poor head! I'm afeared, Mother 
Matryona, lest some evil come of them. No. That won't 
do. 

Matryona, Just as you like. I might even return them 
to him. 

Antsy a. And are they to be used in the same way as the 
others? Mixed in water? 

Matryona. Better in tea, he says. "You can't notice 
anything," he says, "no smell nor nothing." He's a cute 
old fellow, too. 

Antsy a {taking the powder). O-oh, my poor head! Could 
I have ever thought of such a thing if my life were not a 
very hell? 

Matryona. You'll not forget that rouble? I promised 
to take it to the old man. He's had some trouble, too. 

Antsy a. Of course? 

[Goes to her box and hides the powders. 

Matryona. And now, my jewel, keep it as close as you 
can, so that no one should find it out. Heaven defend 
that it should happen, but if any one notices it, tell 'em it's 
for the black-beetles. (Takes the rouble.) It's also used 
for beetles. (Stops short.) 

[Enter Akim, who crosses himself in front of the 
icon, and then Peter, who sits down. 

Peter. Well, then, how's it to be, Daddy Akim? 

Akim. As it's best, Peter Ignatitch, as it's best ... I 
mean — as it's best. 'Cos why? I'm afeared of what d'you 
call 'ems, some tomfoolery, you know. I'd like to. what 
d'you call it ... to start, you know, start the lad honest, 
I mean. But supposing you'd rather, what d'you call it, we 
might, I mean, what's name? As it's best . . . 

Peter. All right. All right. Sit down and let's talk it 
over. (Akim sits down.) Well, then, what's it all about? 
You want him to marry? 



66 THE POWER OF DARKNESS 

Matryona. As to marrying, he might bide a while, Peter 
Ignatitch. You know our poverty, Peter Ignatitch. What's 
he to marry on? We've hardly enough to eat ourselves. 
How can he marry then? . . . 

Peter. You must consider what will be best. 

Matryona. Where's the hurry for him to get married? 
Marriage is not that sort of thing, it's not like ripe raspber- 
ries that drop off if not picked in time. 

Peter. If he were to get married, 'twould be a good 
thing in a way. 

Akim. We'd like to . . . what d'you call it? 'Cos why, 
ycj ?ee. I've what d'you call it ... a job. I mean, I've 
found a paying job in town, you know. 

Matryona. And a fine job too — cleaning out cesspools. 
The other day when he came home, I could do nothing 
but spew and spew. Faugh! 

Akim. It's true, at first it does seem what d'you call it 
. . . knocks one clean over, you know, — the smell, I mean. 
But one gets used to it, and then it's nothing, no worse than 
malt grain, and then it's, what d'you call it, . . . pays, 
pays. I mean. And as to the smell being, what d'you call 
it, it's not for the likes of us to complain. And one changes 
ones clothes. So we'd like to take what's his name . . . 
Nikita, I mean, home. Let him manage things at 
home while I, what d'you call it, — earn something in 
town. 

Peter. You want to keep your son at home? Yes, that 
would be well: but how about the money he has had in ad- 
vance? 

Akim. That's it, that's it! It's just a" you say, Igna- 
titch. it's just what d'you call it. 'Cos why? If you go into 
service, it's as good as if you had sold yourself, they say. 
That will be all right. I mean he may stay and serve his 
time, only he must, what d'you call it, get married. I 
mean — so: you let him off for a little while, that he may, 
what d'you call it? 

Peter. Yes, we could manage that. 

Matryona. Ah, but it's not yet settled between ourselves, 
Peter Ignatitch. I'll speak to you as I would before God, 
and you may judge between my old man and me. He goes 



THE POWER OF DARKNESS 67 

on harping on that marriage. But just ask — who it is he 
wants him to marry. If it were a girl of the right sort 

now I am not my child's enemy, but the wench is not 

honest. 

Akim. No, that's wrong! Wrong, I say. 'Cos why? 
She, that same girl — it's my son as has offended, offended 
the girl I mean. 

Peter. How offended? 

Akim. That's how. She's what d'you call it, with him, 
with my son, Nikita. With Nikita, what d'you call it, I 
mean. 

Matryona. You wait a bit, my tongue runs smoother — 
let me tell it. You know, this lad of ours lived at the rail- 
way before he came to you. There was a girl there as kept 
dangling after him. A girl of no account, you know; her 
name's Marina. She used to cook for the men. So now 
this same girl accuses our son, Nikita, that he, so to say. 
deceived her. 

Peter. Well, there's nothing good in that. 

Matryona. But she's no honest girl herself; she runs 
after the fellows like a common slut. 

Akim. There you are again, old woman, and it's not at 
all what d'you call it, it's all not what d'you call it, I 
mean . . . 

Matryona. There now, that's all the sense one gets from 
my old owl — "what d'you call it, what d'you call it," and 
he doesn't know himself what he means. Peter Ignatitch, 
don't listen to me, but go yourself and ask any one you like 
about the girl, everybody will say the same. She's just a 
homeless good-for-nothing. 

Peter. You know, Daddy Akim, if that's how things 
are, there's no reason for him to marry her. A daughter- 
in-law's not like a shoe, you can't kick her off. 

Akim {excitedly). It's false, old woman, it's what d'you 
call it, false; I mean, about the girl; false! 'Cos why? 
The lass is a good lass, a very good lass, you know. I'm 
sorry, sorry for the lassie, I mean. 

Matryona. It's an old saying: "For the wide world old 
Miriam grieves, and at home without bread her children she 
leaves." He's sorry for the ' ie V„ but not sorry for his own 



68 THE POWER OF DARKNESS 

son! Sling her round your neck and carry her about with 
you! That's enough of such empty cackle! 

Akim, No, it's not empty. 

Matryona. There, don't interrupt, let me have my 
say. 

Akim (interrupts) . No, not empty! I mean, you twist 
things your own way, about the lass or about yourself. 
Twist them, I mean, to make it better for yourself; but 
God, what d'you call it, turns them His way. That's how 
it is. 

Matryona. Eh! One only wears out one's tongue with 
you. 

Akim. The lass is hard-working and spruce, and keeps 
everything round herself . . . what d'you call it. And 
in our poverty, you know, it's a pair of hands, I mean; 
and the wedding needn't cost much. But the chief thing's 
the offence, the offence to the lass, and she's a what d'you 
call it, an orphan, you know; that's what she is, and there's 
the offence. 

Matryona. Eh! they'll all tell you a tale of that sort . . . 

Antsy a. Daddy Akim, you'd better listen to us women; 
we can tell you a thing or two. 

Akim. And God, how about God? Isn't she a human 
being, the lass? A what d'you call it, — also a human being 
I mean, before God. And how do you look at it? 

Matryona. Eh! . . . started off again? . . . 

Peter. Wait a bit, Daddy Akim. One can't believe all 
these girls say, either. The lad's alive, and not far away; 
send for him, and find out straight from him if it's true. 
He won't wish to lose his soul. Go and call the fellow, 
(Anisya rises) and tell him his father wants him. 
[Exit Anisya. 

Matryona. That's right, dear friend; you've cleared 
the way clean, as with water. Yes, let the lad speak for 
himself. Nowadays, you know, they'll not let you force a 
son to marry; one must first of all ask the lad. He'll never 
consent to marry her and disgrace himself, not for all the 
world. To my thinking, it's best he should go on living 
with you and serving you as ^ Piaster. And we need not 
take him home for the summer either; we can hire a help. 



THE POWER OF DARKNESS 69 

If you would only give us ten roubles now, we'll let him 
stay on. 

Peter. All in good time. First let us settle one thing 
before we start another. 

A kirn. You see, Peter Ignatitch, I speak. 'Cos why? 
you know how it happens. We try to fix things up as seems 
best for ourselves, you know; and as to God, we what d'you 
call it, we forget Him. We think it's best so, turn it our 
own way, and lo! we've got into a fix, you know. We think 
it will be best, I mean; and lo! it turns out much worse — 
without God, I mean. 

Peter. Of course one must not forget God. 

Akim. It turns out worse! But when it's the right way 
— God's way — it what d'you call it, it gives one joy; seems 
pleasant, I mean. So I reckon, you see, get him, the lad, I 
mean, get him to marry her, to keep him from sin, I mean, 
and let him what d'you call it at home, as it's lawful, I 
mean, while I go and get the job in town. The work is of 
the right sort — it's payin', I mean. And in God's sight it's 
what d'you call it — it's best, I mean. Ain't she an orphan? 
Here, for example, a year ago some fellows went and 
took timber from the steward, — thought they'd do the 
steward, you know. Yes, they did the steward, but they 
couldn't what d'you call it — do God, I mean. Well, and 
so . . . 

[Enter Nikita and Nan. 

Nikita. You called me? 

[Sits down and takes out his tobacco-pouch. 

Peter (in a low, reproachful voice). What are you 
thinking about — have you no manners? Your father is go- 
ing to speak to you, and you sit down and fool about with 
tobacco. Come, get up! 

[Nikita rises, leans carelessly with his elbow on the 
table, and smiles. 

Akim. It seems there's a complaint, you know, about 
you, Nikita — a complaint, I mean, a complaint. 

Nikita. Who's been complaining? 

Akim. Complaining? It's a maid, an orphan maid, 
complaining, I mean. It's her, you know — a complaint 
against you, from Marina, I mean. 



70 THE POWER OF DARKNESS 

Nikita {laughs). Well, that's a good one. What's the 
complaint? And who's told you — she herself? 

Akim. It's I am asking you, and you must now, what 
d'you call it, give me an answer. Have you got mixed up 
with the lass, I mean — mixed up, you know? 

Nikita. I don't know what you mean. What's up? 

Akim. Foolin', I mean, what d'you call it? foolin'. 
Have you been foolin' with her, I mean? 

Nikita. Never mind what's been! Of course one does 
have some fun with a cook now and then to while away 
the time. One plays the concertina and gets her to dance. 
What of that? 

Peter. Don't shuffle, Nikita, but answer your father 
straight out. 

Akim (solemnly). You can hide it from men but not 
from God, Nikita. You, what d'you call it — think, I mean, 
and don't tell lies. She's an orphan; so, you see, any one 
is free to insult her. An orphan, you see. So you should 
say what's rightest. 

Nikita. But what if I have nothing to say? I have told 
you everything — because there isn't anything to tell, that's 
fiat! {Getting excited.) She can go and say anything 
about me, same as if she was speaking of one as is dead. 
W r hy don't she say anything about Fedka Mikishin? Be- 
sides, how's this, that one mayn't even have a bit of fun 
nowadays? And as for her, well, she's free to say any- 
thing she likes. 

Akim. Ah, Nikita, mind! A lie will out. Did any- 
thing happen? 

Nikita (aside). How he sticks to it; it's too bad. (To 
Akim.) I tell you, I know nothing more. There's been 
nothing between us. (Angrily.) By God! and may I never 
leave this spot (crosses himself) if I know anything about 
it. (Silence. Then still more excitedly.) Why! have you 
been thinking of getting me to marry her? What do you 
mean by it? — it's a confounded shame. Besides, nowadays 
you've got no such rights as to force a fellow to marry. 
That's plain enough. Besides, haven't I sworn I know noth- 
ing about it? 

Matryona (to her husband). There now, that's just like 



THE POWER OF DARKNESS 71 

your silly pate, to believe all they tell you. He's gone 
and put the lad to shame all for nothing. The best thing 
is to let him live as he is living, with his master. His mas- 
ter will help us in our present need, and give us ten roubles, 
and when the time comes . . . 

Peter. Well, Daddy Akim, how's it to be? 

Akim {looks at his son, clicking his tongue disapprov- 
ingly)- Mind, Nikita, the tears of one that's been wronged 
never, what d'you call it — never fall beside the mark but 
always on, what's name — the head of the man as did the 
wrong. So mind, don't what d'you call it. 

Nikita (sits down). What's there to mind? mind your- 
self. 

Nan (aside). I must run and tell mother. 
[Exit. 

Matryona (to Peter). That's always the way with this 
old mumbler of mine, Peter Ignatitch. Once he's got any- 
thing wedged in his pate there's no knocking it out. We've 
gone and troubled you all for nothing. The lad can go on 
living as he has been. Keep him; he's your servant. 

Peter. Well, Daddy Akim, what do you say? 

Akim. Why, the lad's his own master, if only he what 
d'you call it. ... I only wish that, what d'you call it, I 
mean. 

Matryona. You don't know yourself what you're jawing 
about. The lad himself has no wish to leave. Besides, 
what do we want with him at home? We can manage 
without him. 

Peter. Only one thing, Daddy Akim — if you are think- 
ing of taking him back in summer, I don't want him here 
for the winter. If he is to stay at all, it must be for the 
whole year. 

Matryona. And it's for a year he'll bind himself. If 
we want help when the press of work comes, we can hire 
help, and the lad shall remain with you. Only give us 
ten roubles now. . . . 

Peter. Well then, is it to be for another year? 

Akim (sighing). Yes, it seems, it what d'you call it . . . 
if it's so, I mean, it seems that it must be what d'you 
call it. 



72 THE POWER OF DARKNESS 

Matryona. For a year, counting from St. Dimitry's 
day. We know you'll pay him fair wages. But give us ten 
roubles now. Help us out of our difficulties. {Gets up and 
bows to Peter.) 

[Enter Nan and Anisya. The latter sits down at 
one side. 

Peter. Well, if that's settled we might step across to 
the inn and have a drink. Come, Daddy Akim, what do 
you say to a glass of vodka? 

Akim. No, I never drink that sort of thing. 

Peter. Well, you'll have some tea? 

Akim. Ah, tea! yes, I do sin that way. Yes, tea's the 
thing. 

Peter. And the women will also have some tea. Come. 
And you, Nikita, go and drive the sheep in and clear away 
the straw. 

Nikita. All right. (Exeunt all but Nikita. Nikita 
lights a cigarette. It grows darker.) Just see how they both- 
er one. W T ant a fellow to tell 'em how he larks about with 
the wenches! It would take long to tell 'em all those stories 
— "Marry her," he says. Marry them all! One would have 
a good lot of wives! And what need have I to marry? Am 
as good as married now! There's many a chap as envies 
me. Yet how strange it felt when I crossed myself before 
the icon. It was just as if some one shoved me. The whole 
web fell to pieces at once. They say it's frightening to 
swear what's not true. That's all humbug. It's all talk, 
that is. It's simple enough. 

Akotdina (enters with a rope, which she puts down. She 
takes off her outdoor things and goes into closet). You 
might at least have got a light. 

Nikita. What, to look at you? I can see you well 
enough without. 

Akoulina. Oh, bother you! 

[Nan enters and whispers to Nikita. 

Nan. Nikita, there's a person wants you. There is! 

Nikita. What person? 

Nan. Marina from the railway; she's out there, round 
the corner. 

Nikita. Nonsense! 



THE POWER OF DARKNESS 73 

Nan. Blest if she isn't! 

Nikita. What does she want? 

Nan. She wants you to come out. She says, "I only 
want to say a word to Nikita." I began asking, but she 
won't tell, but only says, "Is it true he's leaving you?" 
And I say, "No, only his father wanted to take him away 
and get him to marry, but he won't, and is going to stay 
with us another year." And she says, "For goodness' sake 
send him out to me. I must see him," she says, "I must 
say a word to him somehow." She's been waiting a long 
time. Why don't you go? 

Nikita. Bother her! What should I go for? 

Nan. She says, "If he don't come, I'll go into the hut 
to him." Blest if she didn't say she'd come in! 

Nikita. Not likely. She'll wait a bit and then go away. 

Nan. "Or is it," she says, "that they want him to marry 
Akoulina?" 

[Re-enter Akoulina, passing near Nikita to take 
her distaff. 

Akoulina. Marry whom to Akoulina? 

Nan. Why, Nikita. 

Akoulina. A likely thing ! Who says it? 

Nikita (looks at her and laughs) . It seems people do 
say it. Would you marry me, Akoulina? 

Akoulina. Who, you? Perhaps I might have afore, 
but I won't now. 

Nikita. And why not now? 

Akoulina. 'Cos you wouldn't love me. 

Nikita. Why not? 

Akoulina. 'Cos you'd be forbidden to. 
[Laughs. 

Nikita. Who'd forbid it? 

Akoulina. Who? My step-mother. She does nothing 
but grumble, and is always staring at you. 

Nikita (laughing). Just hear her! Ain't she cute? 

Akoulina. Who? Me? What's there to be cute about? 
Am I blind? She's been rowing and rowing at dad all day. 
The fat-muzzled witch! 
[Goes into closet. 

Nan (looking out of the window). Look, Nikita, she's 



74 THE POWER OF DARKNESS 

coming! I'm blest if she isn't! I'll go away. [Exit.] 

Marina (enters).. What are you doing with me? 

Nikita. Doing? I'm not doing anything. 

Marina. You mean to desert me. 

Nikita {gets up angrily). What does this look like, 
your coming here? 

Marina. Oh, Nikita! 

Nikita. Well, you are strange! What have you come 
for? 

Marina. Nikita! 

Nikita. That's my name. What do you want with 
Nikita? Well, what next? Go away, I tell you! 

Marina. I see, you do want to throw me over. 

Nikita. Well, and what's there to remember? You 
yourself don't know. When you stood out there round the 
corner and sent Nan for me, and I didn't come, wasn't it 
plain enough that you're not wanted? It seems pretty 
simple. So there — go! 

Marina. Not wanted! So now I'm not wanted! I be- 
lieved you when you said you would love me. And now 
that you've ruined me, I'm not wanted. 

Nikita. Where's the good of talking? This is quite im- 
proper. You've been telling tales to father. Now, do go 
away, will you? 

Marina. You know yourself I never loved any one but 
you. Whether you married me or not, I'd not have been 
angry. I've done you no wrong, then why have you left 
off caring for me? Why? 

Nikita. Where's the use of baying at the moon? You 
go away. Goodness me! what a duffer! 

Marina. It's not that you deceived me when you prom- 
ised to marry me that hurts, but that you've left off lov- 
ing. No, it's not that you've stopped loving me either, but 
that you've changed me for another, that's what hurts. I 
know who it is! 

Nikita (comes up to her viciously). Eh! what's the 
good of talking to the likes of you, that won't listen to 
reason? Be off, or you'll drive me to do something you'll 
be sorry for. 

Marina. What, will you strike me, then? Well then, 



THE POWER OF DARKNESS 7S 

strike me! What are you turning away for? Ah, Nikita! 

Nikita. Supposing some one came in. Of course, it's 
quite improper. And what's the good of talking? 

Marina. So this is the end of it! What has been has 
flown. You want me to forget it? Well then, Nikita, 
listen. I kept my maiden honor as the apple of my eye. 
You have ruined me for nothing, you have deceived me. 
You have no pity on a fatherless and motherless girl! 
(Weeping.) You have deserted, you have killed me, but I 
bear you no malice. God forgive you! If you find a better 
one you'll forget me, if a worse one you'll remember me. 
Yes, you will remember, Nikita! Good-bye, then, if it is to 
be. Oh, how I loved you! Good-bye for the last time. 
[Takes his head in her hands and tries to kiss him. 

Nikita (tossing his head back). I'm not going to talk 
with the likes of you. If you won't go away I will, and 
you may stay here by yourself. 

Marina (screams). You are a brute. (In the door- 
way.) God will give you no joy. 
[Exit, crying. 

Akotdina (comes out of closet). You're a dog, Nikita! 

Nikita. What's up? 

Akotdina. What a cry she gave! 
[Cries. 

Nikita. What's up with you? 

Akoulina. What's up? You've hurt her so. That's 
the way you'll hurt me also. You're a dog. 
[Exit into closet. 
[Silence. 

Nikita. Here's a fine muddle. I'm as sweet as honey 
on the lasses, but when a fellow's sinned with 'em it's a 
bad look-out! 

CURTAIN 



ACT II 

The scene represents the village street. To the left the out- 
side of Peter's hut, built of logs, with a porch in the 
middle; to the right of the hut the gates and a corner 
of the yard buildings. Anisya is beating hemp in the 
street near the comer of the yard. Six months have 
elapsed since the First Act. 
Anisya {stops and listens). Mumbling something 
again. He's probably got off the stove. 

[Akoulina enters, carrying two pails on a yoke. 
Anisya. He's calling. You go and see what he wants, 
kicking up such a row. 

Akoulina. Why don't you go? 
Anisya. Go, I tell you! 

(Exit Akoulina into hut.) He's bothering me to death. 
Won't let out where the money is, and that's all about it. 
He was out in the passage the other day. He must have 
been hiding it there. Now, I don't know myself where it is. 
Thank goodness he's afraid of parting with it, so that at 
least it will stay in the house. If only I could manage to 
find it. He hadn't it on him yesterday. Now I don't know 
where it can be. He has quite worn the life out of me. 

[Enter Akoulina, tying her kerchief over her head. 
Anisya. Where are you off to? 

Akoulina. Where? Why, he's told me to go for Aunt 
Martha. "Fetch my sister," he says. "I am going to die," 
he says. "I have a word to say to her." 

Anisya {aside). Asking for his sister? Oh, my poor 
head! Sure he wants to give it her. What shall I do? 
Oh! (To Akoulina.) Don't go! Where are you off to? 
Akoulina. To call Aunt. 

Anisya. Don't go I tell you, I'll go myself. You go 

76 



THE POWER OF DARKNESS 77 

and take the clothes to the river to rinse. Else you'll not 
have finished by the evening. 

Akoulina. But he told me to go. 

Antsy a. You go and do as you're bid. I tell you I'll 
fetch Martha myself. Take the shirts off the fence. 

Akoulina. The shirts? But maybe you'll not go. He's 
given the order. 

Anisya. Didn't I say I'd go? Where's Nan? 

Akoulina. Nan? Minding the calves. 

Anisya. Send her here. I dare say they'll not run away. 
[Akoulina collects the clothes, and exit. 

Anisya. If one doesn't go he'll scold. If one goes he'll 
give the money to his sister. All my trouble will be wasted. 
I don't myself know what I'm to do. My poor head's 
splitting. 

[Continues to work. 

[Enter Matryona, with a stick and a bundle, in 
outdoor clothes. 

Matryona. May the Lord help you, honey. 

Anisya (looks round, stops working, and claps her 
hands with joy). Well, I never expected this! Mother 
Matryona, God has sent the right guest at the right time. 

Matryona. Well, how are things? 

Anisya. Ah, I'm driven well-nigh crazy. It's awful! 

Matryona. Well, still alive, I hear? 

Anisya. Oh, don't talk about it. He doesn't live and 
doesn't die! 

Matryona. But the money — has he given it to any- 
body? 

Anisya. He's just sending for his sister Martha — prob- 
ably about the money. 

Matryona. Well, naturally! But hasn't he given it to 
any one else? 

Anisya. To no one. I watch like a hawk. 

Matryona. And where is it? 

Anisya. He doesn't let out. And I can't find out in any 
way. He hides it now here, now there, and I can't do any- 
thing because of Akoulina. Idiot though she is, she keeps] 
watch, and is always about. Oh my poor head! I'm both- 
ered to death. 



78 THE POWER OF DARKNESS 

Matryona. Oh, my jewel, if he gives the money to any 
one but you, you'll never eease regretting it as long as you 
live! They'll turn you out of house and home without 
anything. You've been worriting, and worriting all your 
life with one you don't love, and will have to go a-begging 
when you are a widow. 

Antsy a. No need to tell me, mother. My heart's that 
weary, and I don't know what to do. No one to get a bit 
of advice from. I told Nikita, but he's frightened of the 
job. The only thing he did was to tell me yesterday it 
was hidden under the floor. 

Matryona. Well, and did you look there? 

Antsy a. I couldn't. The old man himself was in the 
room. I notice that sometimes he carries it about on him, 
and sometimes he hides it. 

Matryona. But you, my lass, must remember that if 
once he gives you the slip there's no getting it right again! 
{Whispering.) Well, and did you give him the strong tea? 

Anisya. Oh! oh! . . . 

[About to answer, but sees neighbor and stops. 
[The neighbor (a woman) passes the hut, and listens 
to a call from within. 

Neighbor (to Anisya). I say, Anisya! Oh, Anisya! 
There's your old man calling, I think. 

Anisya. That's the way he always coughs, — just as if he 
were screaming. He's getting very bad. 

Neighbor (approaches Matryona). How do you do, 
granny? Have you come far? 

Matryona. Straight from home, dear. Come to see my 
son. Brought him some shirts — can't help thinking of 
these things, you see, when it's one's own child. 

Neighbor. Yes, that's always so. (To Anisya.) And I 
was thinking of beginning to bleach the linen, but it is a bit 
early, no one has begun yet. 

Anisya. Where's the hurry? 

Matryona. Well, and has he had communion? 

Anisya* Oh, dear, yes, the priest was here yesterday. 

Neighbor. I had a look at him yesterday. Dearie me! 
one wonders his body and soul keep together. And, O 
Lord, the other day he seemed just at his last gasp, so that 



THE POWER OF DARKNESS 79 

they laid him under the holy icons. 1 They started lament- 
ing and got ready to lay him out. 

Antsy a. He came to, and creeps about again. 

Matryona. Well, and is he to have extreme unction? 

Anisya. The neighbors advise it. If he lives till to- 
morrow we'll send for the priest. 

Neighbor. Oh, Anisya dear, I should think your heart 
must be heavy. As the saying goes, "Not he is sick that's 
ill in bed, but he that sits and waits in dread." 

Anisya. Yes, if it were only over one way or other! 

Neighbor. Yes, that's true, dying for a year, it's no 
joke. You're bound hand and foot like that. 

Matryona. Ah, but a widow's lot is also bitter. It's all 
right as long as one's young, but who'll care for you when 
you're old? Oh yes, old age is not pleasure. Just look 
at me. I've not walked very far, and yet am so footsore I 
don't know how to stand. Where's my son? 

Anisya. Ploughing. But you come in and we'll get the 
samovar ready; the tea'll set you up again. 

Matryona {sitting down). Yes, it's true, I'm quite 
done up, my dears. As to extreme unction, that's abso- 
lutely necessary. Besides, they say it's good for the soul. 

Anisya. Yes, we'll send to-morrow. 
- Matryona. Yes, you had better. And we've had a wed- 
ding down in our parts. 

Neighbor. What, in spring? 2 

Matryona. Ah, now if it were a poor man, then, as the 
saying is, it's always unseasonable for a poor man to marry. 
But it's Simon Matveyitch, he's married that Marina. 

Anisya. What luck for her! 

Neighbor. He's a widower. I suppose there are chil- 
dren? 

Matryona. Four of 'em. What decent girl would have 
him! Well, so he's taken her, and she's glad. You see, 
the vessel was not sound, so the wine trickled out. 

*It is customary to place a dying person under the icon. One 
or more icons hang in the hut of each Orthodox peasant. 

2 Peasant weddings are usually in autumn. They are forbid- 
den in Lent, and soon after Easter the peasants become too busy 
to marry till harvest is over. 



80 THE POWER OF DARKNESS 

Neighbor. Oh, my! And what do people say to it? 
And he, a rich peasant! 

Matryona. They are living well enough so far. 

Neighbor. Yes, it's true enough. Who wants to marry 
where there are children? There now, there's our Michael. 
He's such a fellow, dear me . . . 

Peasant's voice. Hullo, Mavra. Where the devil are 
you? Go and drive the cow in. 
[Exit Neighbor. 

Matryona (while the Neighbor is within hearing speaks 
in her ordinary voice). Yes, lass, thank goodness, she's 
married. At any rate my old fool won't go bothering about 
Nikita. Now (suddenly changing her tone), she's gone! 
(Whispers.) I say, did you give him the tea? 

Anisya. Don't speak about it. He'd better die of him- 
self. It's no use — he doesn't die, and I have only taken a 
sin on my w oul. O-oh, my head, my head! Oh, why did 
you give me those powders? 

Matryona. What of the powders? The sleeping pow- 
ders, lass, — why not give them? No evil can come of them. 

Anisya. I am not talking of the sleeping ones, but the 
others, the white ones. 

Matryona. Well, honey, those powders are medicinal. 

Anisya (sighs). I know, yet it's frightening. Though 
he's worried me to death. 

Matryona. Well, and did you use many? 

Anisya. I gave two doses. 

Matryona. Was anything noticeable? 

Anisya. I had a taste of the tea myself — just a little 
bitter. And he drank them with the tea and says, "Even 
tea disgusts me," and I say, "Everything tastes bitter when 
one's sick." But I felt that scared, mother. 

Matryona. Don't go thinking about it. The more one 
thinks the worse it is. 

Anisya. I wish you'd never given them to me and led 
me into sin. When I think of it something seems to tear 
my heart. Oh, dear, why did you give them to me? 

Matryona. What do you mean, honey? Lord help you! 
Why are you turning it on to me? Mind, lass, don't go 
twisting matters from the sick on to the healthy. If any- 



THE POWER OF DARKNESS 81 

thing were to happen, I stand aside! I know nothing! I'm 
aware of nothing! I'll kiss the cross on it; I never gave 
you any kind of powders, never saw any, never heard of 
any, and never knew there w T ere such powders. You think 
about yourself, lass. Why, we were talking about you the 
other day. "Poor thing, what torture she endures. The 
step-daughter an idiot; the old man rotten, sucking her life- 
blood. What wouldn't one be ready to do in such a 
case!" 

Anisya. I'm not going to deny it. A life such as mine 
could make one do worse than that. It could make you 
hang yourself or throttle him. Is this a life? 

Matryona. That's just it. There's no time to stand 
gaping; the money must be found one way or other, and 
then he must have his tea. 

Anisya. O-oh, my head, my head! I can't think what 
to do. I am so frightened; he'd better die of himself. I 
don't want to have it on my soul. 

Matryona (viciously). And why doesn't he show the 
money? Does he mean to take it along with him? Is no 
one to have it? Is that right? God forbid such a sum 
should be lost all for nothing. Isn't that a sin? What's he 
doing? Is he worth considering? 

Anisya. I don't know anything. He's worried me to 
death. 

Matryona. What is it you don't know? The business 
is clear. If you make a slip now, you'll repent it all your 
life. He'll give the money to his sister and you'll be left 
without. 

Anisya. O-oh dear! Yes, and he did send for her — I 
must go. 

Matryona. You wait a bit and light the samovar first. 
We'll give him some tea and search him together — we'll 
find it, no fear. 

Anisya. Oh dear, oh dear; supposing something were to 
happen. 

Matryona. What now? . What's the good of waiting? 
Do you want the money to slip from your hand when it's 
just in sight? You go and do as I say. 

Anisya. Well, I'll go and light the samovar. 



82 THE POWER OF DARKNESS 

Matryona. Go, honey, do the business so as not to re- 
gret it afterwards. That's right! 

[Anisya turns to go. Matryona calls her back. 

Matryona. Just a word. Don't tell Nikita about the 

business. He's silly. God forbid he should find out about 

the powders. The Lord only knows what he would do. 

j He's so tender-hearted. D'you know, he usen't to be able 

• to kill a chicken. Don't tell him. 'T would be a fine go. 

he wouldn't understand things. 

[Stops horror-struck as Peter appears in the door- 
way. 
Peter (holding on to the wall, creeps out into the porch 
and calls with a faint voice). How's it one can't make you 
hear? Oh, oh, Anisya! Who's there? 
[Drops on the bench. 
Anisya {steps from behind the corner). Why have you 
come out? You should have stayed where you were lying. 
Peter. Has the girl gone for Martha? It's very hard. 
. . . Oh, if only death would come quicker! 

Anisya. She had no time. I sent her to the river. 
Wait a bit, I'll go myself when I'm ready. 

Peter. Send Nan. Where's she? Oh, I'm that bad! 
Oh, death's at hand! 

Anisya. I've sent for her already. 
Peter. Oh, dear! Then where is she? 
Anisya. Where's she got to, the plague seize her! 
Peter. Oh, dear! I can't bear it. All my inside's on 
fire. It's as if a gimlet were boring me. Why have you 
left me as if I were a dog? ... no one to give me a drink. 
. . . Oh . . . send Nan to me. 
Anisya. Here she is. Nan, go to father. 

[Nan runs in. Anisya goes behind the corner of 
the house. 
Peter. Go you. Oh ... to Aunt Martha, tell her 
father wants her; say she's to come, I want her. 
Nan. All right. 

Peter. Wait a bit. Tell her she's to come quick. Tel! 
her I'm dying. O-oh! 

Nan. I'll just get my shawl and be off. 
[Runs off. 



THE POWER OF DARKNESS 83 

Matryona {winking). Now, then, mind and look sharp, 
lass. Go into the hut, hunt about everywhere, like a dog 
that's hunting for fleas: look under everything, and I'll 
search him. 

Anisya (to Matryona). I feel a bit bolder, somehow, 
now you're here. (Goes up to porch. To Peter.) Hadn't 
I better light the samovar? Here's Mother Matryona 
come to see her son; you'll have a cup of tea with her? 

Peter. Well, then, light it. 

[Anisya goes into the house. Matryona comes up 
to the porch. 

Peter. How do you do? 

Matryona (bowing). How d'you do, my benefactor; 
how d'you do, my precious . . . still ill, I see. And my 
old man, he's that sorry! "Go," says he, "see how he's 
getting on." He sends his respects to you. 
[Bows again. 

Peter. I'm dying. 

Matryona. Ah, yes, Peter Ignatitch, now I look at you 
I see, as the saying has it, "Sickness lives where men live." 
You've shrivelled, shrivelled, all to nothing, poor dear, now 
I come to look at you. Seems illness does not add to good 
looks. 

Peter. My last hour has come. 

Matryona. Oh well, Peter Ignatitch, it's God's will you 
know, you've had communion, and you'll have unction, 
God willing. Your missus is a wise woman, the Lord be 
thanked; she'll give you a good burial, and have prayers 
said for your soul, all most respectable! And my son, he'll 
look after things meanwhile. 

Peter. There'll be no one to manage things! She's not 
steady. Has her head full of folly — why, I know all about 
it, I know. And my girl is silly and young. I've got the 
homestead together, and there's no one to attend to things. 
One can't help feeling it. 
[Whimpers. 

Matryona. Why, if it's money, or something, you can 
leave orders. 

Peter (to Anisya inside the house). Has Nan gone? 

Matryona (aside). There now, he's remembered! 



84 THE POWER OF DARKNESS 

Anisya (from inside). She went then and there. Come 
inside, won't you? Fll help you in. 

Peter, Let me sit here a bit for the last time. The 
air's so stuffy inside. Oh, how bad I feel! Oh, my heart's 
burning. . . . Oh, if death would only come! 

Matryona. If God don't take a soul, the soul can't go 
out. Death and life are in God's will, Peter Ignatitch. 
You can't be sure of death either. Maybe you'll recover 
yet. There was a man in our village just like that, at the 
very point of death . . . 

Peter. No, I feel I shall die to-day, I feel it. 
[Leans back and shuts his eyes. 

Anisya {enters). Well, now, are you coming in or not? 
You do keep one waiting. Peter! eh, Peter! 

Matryona {steps aside and beckons to Anisya with her 
finger). Well? 

Anisya (comes down the porch steps). Not there. 

Matryona. But have you searched everywhere? Under 
the floor? 

Anisya. No, it's not there either. In the shed perhaps; 
he was rummaging there yesterday. 

Matryona. Go, search, search for all you're worth. Go 
all over everywhere, as if you licked with your tongue! 
But I see he'll die this very day, his nails are turning 
blue and his face looks earthy. Is the samovar ready? 

Anisya. Just on the boil. 

Nikita (comes from the other side, if possible on horse- 
back, up to the gate, and does not see Peter. To 
Matryona). How d'you do, mother, is all well at home? 

Matryona. The Lord be thanked, we're all alive and 
have a crust to bite. 

Nikita. Well, and how's master? 

Matryona. Hush, there he sits. 
[Points to porch. 

Nikita. Well, let him sit. What's it to me? 

Peter (opens his eyes). Nikita, I say, Nikita, come 
here! 

[Nikita approaches. Anisya and Matryona whis- 
per together. 

Peter. W T hy have you come back so early? 



THE POWER OF DARKNESS 85 

Nikita. I've finished ploughing. 

Peter. Have you done the strip beyond the bridge? 

Nikita. It's too far to go there. 

Peter. Too far? From here it's still farther. You'll 
have to go on purpose now. You might have made one 
job of it. 

[Anisya, without showing herself, stands and lis- 
tens. 

Matryona (approaches). Oh, sonny, why don't you 
take more pains for your master? Your master is ill and 
depends on you; you should serve him as you would your 
own father, straining every muscle just as I always tell you 
to. 

Peter. Well, then — o-oh! . . . Get out the seed pota- 
toes, and the women will go and sort them. 

Anisya (aside). No fear, I'm not going. He's again 
sending every one away; he must have the money on him 
now, and wants to hide it somewhere. 

Peter. Else . . . o-oh! when the time comes for plant- 
ing, they'll all be rotten.' Oh, I can't stand it! 
[Rises. 

Matryona (runs up into the porch and holds Peter 
up). Shall I help you into the hut? 

Peter. Help me in. (Stops.) Nikita! 

Nikita (angrily). What now? 

Peter. I shan't see you again . . . I'll die to-day. . . . 
Forgive me, 1 for Christ's sake, forgive me if I have ever 
sinned against you. ... If I have sinned in word or 
deed. . . . There's been all sorts of things. Forgive 
me! 

Nikita. What's there to forgive? I'm a sinner myself. 

Matryona. Ah, sonny, have some feeling. 

Peter. Forgive me, for Christ's sake. 
[Weeps. 

Nikita (snivels). God will forgive you, Daddy Peter. 
I have no cause to complain of you. You've never done 

1 A formal request for forgiveness is customary among Rus- 
sians, but it is often no mere formality. Nikita's first reply is 
evasive; his second reply, "God will forgive you" is the correct 
one sanctioned by cu^torr. 



86 THE POWER OF DARKNESS 

me any wrong. You forgive me; maybe I've sinned worse 
against you. (Weeps.) 

[Peter goes in whimpering, Matryona supporting 
him. 

Anisya. Oh, my poor head! It's not without some 
reason he's hit on that. {Approaches Nikita.) Why 
did you say the money was under the floor? It's not 
there. 

Nikita (does not answer, but cries). I have never had 
anything bad from him, nothing but good, and what have 
I gone and done! 

Anisya. Enough now! Where's the money? 

Nikita (angrily). How should I know? Go and look 
for it yourself! 

Anisya. What's made you so tender? 

Nikita. I am sorry for him, — that sorry. How he cried! 
Oh, dear! 

Anisya. Look at him, — seized with pity! He has found 
some one to pity too! He's been treating you like a dog, 
and even just now was giving orders to have you turned 
out of the house. You'd better show me some pity! 

Nikita. What are you to be pitied for? 

Anisya. If he dies, and the money's been hidden 
away . . . 

Nikita. No fear, he'll not hide it . . . 

Anisya. Oh, Nikita darling! he's sent for his sister, and 
wants to give it to her. It will be a bad lookout for us. 
How are we going to live, if he gives her the money?* 
They'll turn me out of the house! You try and manage 
somehow 7 ! You said he went to the shed last night. 

Nikita. I saw him coming from there, but where he's 
shoved it to, who can tell? 

Anisya. Oh, my poor head! I'll go and have a look 
there. 

[Nikita steps aside.] 

Matryona (comes out of the hut and down the steps 
of the porch to Anisya and Nikita). Don't go anywhere. 
He's got the money on him. I felt it on a string round his 
neck. 

Anisya. Oh my head, my head! 



THE POWER OF DARKNESS 87 

Matryona. If you don't keep wide awake now, then 
you may whistle for it. If his sister comes — then good- 
bye to it! 

Anisya. That's true. She'll come and he'll give it her. 
What's to be done? Oh, my poor head! 

Matryona. What is to be done? Why, look here: the 
samovar is boiling, go and make the tea and pour him out 
a cup, and then {whispers) put in all that's left in the 
paper. When he's drunk the cup, then just take it. He'll 
not tell, no fear. 

Anisya. Oh! I'm af eared! 

Matryona. Don't be talking now, but look dive, and 
I'll keep his sister off if need be. Mind, don't make a blun- 
der! Get hold of the money and bring it here, and Nikita 
will hide it. 

Anisya. Oh my head, my head! I don't know how I'm 
going to . . . 

Matryona. Don't talk about it I tell you, do as I bid 
you. Nikita! 

Nikita. What is it? 

Matryona. You stay here — sit down — in case some- 
thing is wanted. 

Nikita {waves his hand). Oh, these women, what won't 
they be up to? Muddle one up completely. Bother them! 
I'll really go and fetch out the potatoes. 

Matryona {catches him by the arm). Stay here, I tell 
you. 

[Nan enters. 

Anisya. Well? 

Nan. She was down in her daughter's vegetable plot — 
she's coming. 

Anisya. Coming! What shall we do? 

Matryona. There's plentv of time if you do as I tell 
you. 

Anisya. I don't know what to do; I know nothing, my 
brain's all in a whirl. Nan! Go, daughter, and see to the 
calves, they'll have run away, I'm afraid. ... Oh dear, 
I haven't the courage. 

Matryona. Go on! I should think the samovar's boil- 
ing over. 



88 THE POWER OF DARKNESS 

Anisya. Oh my head, my poor head! [Exit.] 

Matryona (approaches Nikita). Now then, sonny. 
(Sits down beside him.) Your affairs must also be thought 
about, and not left anyhow. 

Nikita. What affairs? 

Matryona. Why, this affair — how you're to live your 
life. 

Nikita. How to live my life? Others live, and I shall 
live! 

Matryona. The old man will probably die to-day. 

Nikita. Well, if he dies, God give him rest! What's 
that to me? 

Matryona (keeps looking towards the porch while she 
speaks). Eh, sonny! Those that are alive have to think 
about living. One needs plenty of sense in these matters, 
honey. What do you think? I've tramped all over the 
place after your affairs, I've got quite footsore bothering 
about matters. And you must not forget me when the 
time comes. 

Nikita. And what's it you've been bothering about? 

Matryona. About your affairs, about your future. If 
you don't take trouble in good time you'll get nothing. You 
know Ivan Moseitch? Well, I've been to him too. I 
went there the other day. I had something else to settle, 
you know. Well, so I sat and chatted awhile and then 
came to the point. "Tell me, Ivan Moseitch," says I, 
"how's one to manage an affair of this kind? Supposing," 
says I, "a peasant as is a widower married a second wife, 
and supposing all the children he has is a daughter by the 
first wife, and a daughter by the second. Then," says I, 
"when that peasant dies, could an outsider get hold of the 
homestead by marrying the widow? Could he," says I, "give 
both the daughters in marriage and remain master of ths 
house himself?" "Yes, he could," says he, "but," says he, 
"it would mean a deal of trouble; still the thing could be 
managed by means of money, but if there's no money it's 
no good trying." 

Nikita (laughs). That goes without saying, only fork 
out the money. Who does not want money? 

Matryona, Well then, honey, so I spoke out plainly 



THE POWER OF DARKNESS 89 

about the affair. And he says, "First and foremost, your 
son will have to get himself on the register of that village 
— that will cost something. The elders will have to be 
treated. And they, you see, they'll sign. Everything,'' says 
he, "must be done sensibly." Look {unwraps her kerchief 
and takes out a paper), he's written out this paper; just 
read it, you're a scholar, you know. 
[Nikita reads. 

Nikita. This paper's only a decision for the elders to 
sign. There's no great wisdom needed for that. 

Matryona. But you just hear what Ivan Mosevitch bids 
us do. "Above all," he says, "mind and don't let the 
money slip away, dame. If she don't get hold of the 
money," he says, "they'll not let her do it. Money's the 
great thing!" So look out, sonny, things are coming to a 
head. 

Nikita. What's that to me? The money's hers — so let 
her look out. 

Matryona. Ah, sonny, how you look at it! How can 
a woman manage such affairs? Even if she does get the 
money, is she capable of arranging it all? One knows what 
a woman is! You're a man anyhow. You can hide it, and 
all that. You see, you've after all got more sense, in case 
of anything happening. 

Nikita. Oh, your woman's notions are all so inexpe- 
dient! 

Matryona. Why inexpedient? You just collar the 
money, and the woman's in your hands. And then should 
she ever turn snappish you'd be able to tighten the reins! 

Nikita. Bother you all, — I'm going. 

Anisya {quite pale, runs out of the hut and round the 
comer to Matryona). So it was, it w r as on him! Here it 
is! 

[Shows that she has something under her apron. 

Matryona. Give it to Nikita; he'll hide it. Nikita, take 
it and hide it somewhere. 

Nikita. All right, give here! 

Anisya. O-oh, my poor head! No, I'd better do it 
myself. 

[Goes towards the gate. 



90 THE POWER OF DARKNESS 

Matryona {seizing her by the arm). Where are you 
going to? You'll be missed. There's the sister coming; give 
it him; he knows what to do. Eh, you blockhead! 

Antsy a (stops irresolutely). Oh, my head, my head! 

Nikita. Well, give it here. I'll shove it away some- 
where. 

Antsy a. Where will you shove it to? 

Nikita (laughing). Why, are you afraid? 

[Enter Akoulina, carrying clothes from the wash. 

Anisya. O-oh, my poor head! (Gives the money.) 
Mind, Nikita. 

Nikita. What are you afraid of? I'll hide it so that 
I'll not be able to find it myself. 
[Exit. 

Anisya (stands in terror). Oh dear, and supposing 
he . . . 

Matryona. Well, is he dead? 

Anisya. Yes, he seems dead. He did not move when I 
took it. 

Matryona. Go in, there's Akoulina. 

Anisya. Well there, I've done the sin and he has the 
money. . . . 

Matryona. Have done and go in! There's Martha 
coming! 

Anisya. There now, I've trusted him. What's going to 
happen now? 
[Exit. 

Martha (enters from one side, Akoulina enters from 
the other. To Akoulina). I should have come before, but 
I was at my daughter's. Well, how's the old man? Is he 
dying? 

Akoulina (puts down the clothes). Don't know; I've 
been to the river. 

Martha (pointing to Matryona). Who's that? 

Matryona. I'm from Zoiievo. I'm Nikita's mother from 
Zouevo, my dearie. Good afternoon to you. He's wither- 
ing, withering away, poor dear — your brother, I mean. He 
came out himself. "Send for my sister," he said, "because," 
said he . . . Dear me, why, I do believe he's dead! 

Anisya (runs out screaming. Clings to a post, and begins 



THE POWER OF DARKNESS 91 

waiting). 1 Oh, oh, ah! who-o-o-o-m have you left me to, 
why-y-y have you dese-e-e-e-rted me — a miserable widow 
... to live my life alone . . . Why have you closed your 
bright eyes . . . 

[Enter Neighbor. Matryona and Neighbor catch 

hold of Anisya under the arms to support her. 

Akoulina and Martha go into the hut. A crowd 

assembles. 

A voice in the crowd. Send for the old women to lay out 

the body. 

Matryona {rolls up her sleeves). Is there any water in 
the copper? But I daresay the samovar is still hot. Ill also 
go and help a bit. 

CURTAIN 

1 Loud public wailing of this kind is customary, and considered 
indispensable, among the peasants. 



ACT III 

The same hut. Winter. Nine months have passed since 
Act II. Anisya, plainly dressed, sits before a loom 
weaving. Nan is on the oven. 

Mitritch {an old laborer, enters and slowly takes off 
his outdoor things). Oh Lord, have mercy! Well, hasn't 
the master come home yet? 

Anisya. What? 

Mitritch. Nikita isn't back from town, is he? 

Anisya. No. 

Mitritch. Must have been on the spree. Oh Lord! 

Anisya. Have you finished in the stackyard? 

Mitritch. What d'you think? Got it all as it should 
be, and covered everything with straw! I don't like doing 
things by halves! Oh Lord! holy Nicholas! {Picks at the 
corns on his hands.) But it's time he was back. 

Anisya. What need has he to hurry? He's got money. 
Merry-making with that girl, I daresay. . . . 

Mitritch. Why shouldn't one make merry if one has 
the money? And why did Akoulina go to town? 

Anisya. You'd better ask her. How do I know what 
the devil took her there! 

Mitritch. What! to town? There's all sorts of things 
to be got in town if one's got the means. Oh Lord! 

Nan. Mother, I heard myself. "I'll get you a little 
shawl," he says, blest if he didn't; "you shall choose it 
yourself," he says. And she got herself up so fine; she put 
on her velveteen coat and the French shawl. 

Anisya. Really, a girl's modesty reaches only to the 
door. Step over the threshold and it's forgotten. She is 
a shameless creature. 

Mitritch. Oh my! What's the use of being ashamed? 
While there's plenty of money make merry. Oh Lord! 

92 



THE POWER OF DARKNESS 93 

It is too soon to have supper, eh? (Anisya does not an- 
swer.) I'll go and get warm meanwhile. (Climbs on the 
stove.) Oh, Lord! Blessed Virgin Mother! Holy Nicholas! 

Neighbor (enters). Seems your goodman's not back 
yet? 

Anisya. No. 

Neighbor. It's time he was. Hasn't he perhaps stopped 
at our inn? My sister, Thekla, says there's heaps of 
sledges standing there as have come from the town. 

Anisya. Nan! Nan, I say! 

Nan. Yes? 

Anisya. You run to the inn and see! Mayhap, being 
drunk, he's gone there. 

Nan (jumps down from the oven and dresses). All 
right. 

Neighbor. And he's taken Akoulina with him? 

Anisya. Else he'd not have had any need of going. It's 
because of her he's unearthed all the business there. "Must 
go to the bank," he says; "it's time to receive the pay- 
ments," he says. But it's all her fooling. 

Neighbor (shakes her head). It's a bad look-out. 
[Silence. 

Nan (at the door). And if he's there, what am I to 
say? 

Anisya. You only see if he's there. 

Nan. All right. I'll be back in a winking. 
[Long silence. 

Mitritch (roars). Oh Lord! merciful Nicholas! 

Neighbor (starting). Oh, how he scared me! Who is 
it? 

Anisya. Why, Mitritch, our laborer. 

Neighbor. Oh dear, oh dear, what a fright he did give 
me! I had quite forgotten. But tell me, dear, I've heard 
some one's been wooing Akoulina? 

Anisya (gets up from the loom and sits down by the 
table). There was some one from Dedlovo; but it seems 
the affair's got wind there too. They made a start, and 
then stopped; so the thing fell through. Of course, who'd 
care to? 

Neighbor. And the Lizounofs from Zoiievo? 



94 THE POWER OF DARKNESS 

Anisya. They made some steps too, but it didn't come 
off either. They won't even see us. 

Neighbor. Yet it's time she was married. 

Anisya. Time and more than time! Ah, my dear, I'm 
that impatient to get her out of the house; but the matter 
does not come off. He does not wish it, nor she either. 
He's not yet had enough of his beauty, you see. 

Neighbor. Eh, eh, eh, what doings! Only think of it. 
Why, he's her step-father! 

Anisya. Ah, friend, they've taken me in completely. 
They've done me so fine it's beyond saying. I, fool that 
I was, noticed nothing, suspected nothing, and so I mar- 
ried him. I guessed nothing, but they already understood 
one another. 

Neighbor. Oh dear, what goings on! 

Anisya. So it went on from bad to worse, and I see they 
begin hiding from me. Ah, friend, I was that sick — that 
sick of my life! It's not as if I didn't love him. 

Neighbor. That goes without saying. 

Anisya. Ah, how hard it is to bear such treatment from 
him! Oh, how it hurts! 

Neighbor. Yes, and I've heard say he's becoming too 
free with his fists? 

Anisya. And that too! There was a time when he was 
gentle when he'd had a drop. He used to hit out before, 
but of me he was always fond! But now when he's in a 
temper he goes for me and is ready to trample me under 
his feet. The other day he got both my hands entangled in 
my hair so that I could hardly get away. And the girl's 
worse than a serpent; it's a wonder the earth bears such 
furies. 

Neighbor. Ah, ah, my dear, now I look at you, you 
are a sufferer! To suffer like that is no joke. To have 
given shelter to a beggar, and he to lead you such a dance! 
Why don't you pull in the reins? 

Anisya. Ah, but, my dear, if it weren't for my heart! 
Him as is gone was stern enough, still I could twist him 
about any way I liked; but with this one I can do nothing. 
As soon as I see him all my anger goes. I haven't a grain 
of courage before him; I go about like a drowned hen. 



THE POWER OF DARKNESS 95 

Neighbor. Ah, neighbor, you must be under a spell. I've 
heard that Matryona goes in for that sort of thing. It must 
be her. 

Antsy a. Yes, dear; I think so myself sometimes. Gra- 
cious me, how hurt I feel at times! I'd like to tear him 
to pieces. But when I set eyes on him, my heart won't 
go against him. 

Neighbor. It's plain you're bewitched. It don't take 
long to blight a body. There now, when I look at you, 
what you have dwindled to! 

Anisya. Growing a regular spindle-shanks. And just 
look at that fool Akoulina. Wasn't the girl a regular untidy 
slattern, and just look at her now! Where has it all come 
from? Yes, he has fitted her out. She's grown so smart, 
so puffed up, just like a bubble that's ready to burst. And, 
though she's a fool, she's got it into her head. "I'm the 
mistress," she says; "the house is mine; it's me father 
wanted him to marry." And she's that vicious! Lord help 
us, when she gets into a rage she's ready to tear the thatch 
off the house. 

Neighbor. Oh dear, what a life yours is, now I come to 
look at you. And yet there's people envying you: "They're 
rich," they say; but it seems that gold don't keep tears from 
falling. 

Anisya. Much reason for envy indeed! And the riches, 
too, will soon be made ducks and drakes of. Dear me, 
how he squanders money! 

Neighbor. But how's it, dear, you've been so simple 
to give up the money? It's yours. 

Anisya. Ah, if you knew all! The thing is that I've 
made one little mistake. 

Neighbor. Well, if I were you, I'd go straight and have 
the law of him. The money's yours; how dare he squan- 
der it? There's no such rights. 

Anisya. They don't pay heed to that nowadays. 

Neighbor. Ah, my dear, now I come to look at you, 
you've got that weak. 

Anisya. Yes, quite weak, dear, quite weak. He's got 
me into a regular fix. I don't myself know anything. Oh, 
my poor head! 



96 THE POWER OF DARKNESS 

Neighbor {listening). There's some one coming, I 
think. 

[The door opens and Akim enters, 

Akim (crosses himself, knocks the snow off his feet, and 
takes off his coat). Peace be to this house! How do you 
do? Are you well, daughter? 

Anisya. How d'you do, father? Do you come straight 
from home? 

Akim. I've been a-thinking I'll go and see what's name, 
go to see my son, I mean, — my son. I didn't start early — 
had my dinner," I mean; I went, and it's so what d'you call 
it — so snowy, hard walking, and so there I'm what d'you 
call it — late, I mean. And my son — is he at home? At 
home? My son, I mean. 

Anisya. No; he's gone to the town. 

Akim (sits down on a bench). I've some business with 
him, d'you see, some business, I mean. I told him t'other 
day, told him I was in need — told him, I mean, that our 
horse was done for, our horse, you see. So we must what 
d'ye call it, get a horse, I mean, some kind of a horse, I 
mean. So there, I've come, you see. 

Anisya. Nikita told me. When he comes back you'll 
have a talk. (Goes to the oven.) Have some supper now, 
and he'll soon come. Mitritch, eh, Mitritch, come have 
your supper. 

Mitritch, Oh Lord! merciful Nicholas! 

Anisya. Come to supper. 

Neighbor. I shall go now. Good-night. 
[Exit. 

Mitritch (gets down from the oven). I never noticed 
how I fell asleep. Oh, Lord! gracious Nicholas! How 
d'you do, Daddy Akim? 

Akim. Ah, Mitritch! What are you, what d'ye call it, 
I mean? . . . 

Mitritch. Why, I'm working for your son, Nikita. 

Akim. Dear me! What d'ye call . . . working for my 
son, I mean. Dear me! 

Mitritch. I was living with a tradesman in town, but 
drank all I had there. Now I've come back to the village. 



THE POWER OF DARKNESS 97 

I've no home, so I've gone into service. (Gapes.) Oh 
Lord! 

Akim. But how's that, what d'you call it, or what's 
name, Nikita, what does he do? Has he some business, I 
mean besides, that he should hire a laborer, a laborer, I 
mean, hire a laborer? 

Antsy a. What business should he have? He used to 
manage, but now he's other things on his mind, so he's 
hired a laborer. 

Mitritch. Why shouldn't he, seeing he has money? 

Akim. Now that's what d'you call it, that's wrong, I 
mean, quite wrong, I mean. That's spoiling oneself. 

Antsy a. Oh, he has got spoilt, that spoilt, it's just awful. 

Akim. There now, what d'you call it, one thinks how 
to make things better, and it gets w r orse I mean. Riches 
spoil a man, spoil, I mean. 

Mitritch. Fatness makes even a dog go mad; how's one 
not to get spoilt by fat living? Myself now; how I went 
on with fat living. I drank for three weeks without being 
sober. I drank my last breeches. When I had nothing 
left, I gave it up. Now I've determined not to. Bother 
it! 

Akim. And where's what d'you call, your old wom- 
an? 

Mitritch. My old woman has found her right place, old 
fellow. She's hanging about the gin-shops in town. She's 
a swell too; one eye knocked out, and the other black, and 
her muzzle twisted to one side. And she's never sober; 
drat her! 

Akim. Oh, oh, oh, how's that? 

Mitritch. And where's a soldier's wife to go? She has 
found her right place. 
[Silence. 

Akim (to Anisya). And Nikita, — has he what d'you 
call it, taken anything up to town? I mean, anything to 
sell? 

Anisya (laying the table and serving up). No, he's 
taken nothing. He's gone to get money from the bank. 

Akim (sitting down to supper). Why? D'you wish 
put it to another use, the money I mean? 



98 THE POWER OF DARKNESS 

Antsy a. No, we don't touch it. Only some twenty 
or thirty roubles as have come due; they must be 
taken. 

Akim. Must be taken. Why take it, the money I mean? 
You ? ll take some to-day I mean, and some to-morrow; and 
so you'll what d'you call it, take it all, I mean. 

Anisya. We get this besides. The money is all safe. 

Akim. All safe? How's that, safe? You take it, and it 
what d'you call it, it's all safe. How's that? You put a heap 
of meal into a bin, or a barn, I mean, and go on taking meal, 
will it remain there, what d'you call it, all safe, I mean? 
That's, what d'you call it, it's cheating. You'd better find 
out, or else they'll cheat you. Safe indeed! I mean you 
what d'ye call . . . you take it and it remains all safe 
there? 

Anisya. I know nothing about it. Ivan Moseitch ad- 
vised us at the time. "Put the money in the bank," he 
said, "the money will be safe, and you'll get interest," he 
said. * 

Mitritch {having finished his supper) . That's so. I've 
lived with a tradesman. They all do like that. Put the 
money in the bank, then lie down on the oven and it will 
keep coming in. 

Akim. That's queer talk. How's that — what d'ye call, 
coming in, how's that coming in, and they, who do they 
get it from I mean, the money I mean? 

Anisya. They take the money out of the bank. 

Mitritch. Get along! 'Tain't a thing a woman can 
understand! You look here, I'll make it all clear to you. 
Mind and remember. You see, suppose you've got some 
money, and I, for instance, have spring coming on, my 
land's idle, I've got no seeds, or I have to pay taxes. So, 
you see, I go to you. "Akim," I say, "give us a ten-rouble 
note, and when I've harvested in autumn I'll return it, and 
till two acres for you besides, for having obliged me!" And 
you, seeing I've something to fall back on — a horse say, or 
a cow — you say, "No, give two or three roubles for the 
obligation," and there's an end of it. I'm stuck in the mud, 
and can't do without. So I say, "All right!" and take a 
tenner. In the autumn, when I've made my turnover, I 



THE POWER OF DARKNESS 99 

bring it back, and you squeeze the extra three roubles out 
of me. 

Akim. Yes, but that's what peasants do when they what 
d'ye call it, when they forget God. It's not honest, I mean, 
it's no good, I mean. 

Mitritch. You wait. You'll see it comes just to the 
same thing. Now don't forget how you've skinned me. 
And Anisya, say, has got some money lying idle. She does 
not know what to do with it, besides, she's a woman, and 
does not know how to use it. She comes to you. " Couldn't 
you make some profit with my money too?" she says. "Why 
not?" say you, and you wait. Before the summer I come 
again and say, "Give me another tenner, and I'll be 
obliged." Then you find out if my hide isn't all gone, and 
if I can be skinned again you give me Anisya's money. 
But supposing I'm clean shorn, — have nothing to eat, — then 
you see I can't be fleeced any more, and you say, "Go your 
way, friend," and you look out for another, and lend him 
your own and Anisya's money and skin him. That's what 
the bank is. So it goes round and round. It's a cute thing, 
old fellow! 

Akim {excitedly). Gracious me, whatever is that like? 
It's what d'ye call it, it's filthy! The peasants — what d'ye 
call it, the peasants do so I mean, and know it's, what d'ye 
call it, a sin! It's what d'you call, not right, not right, I 
mean. It's filthy! How can people as have learnt . . . 
what d'ye call it . . . 

Mitritch. That, old fellow, is just what they're fond off 
And remember, them that are stupid, or the women folk, 
as can't put their money into use themselves, they take it 
to the bank, and they there, deuce take 'em, clutch hold 
of it, and with this money they fleece the people. It's a 
cute thing! 

Akim {sighing). Oh dear, I see, what d'ye call it, with- 
out money it's bad, and with money it's worse! How's 
that? God told us to work, but you, what d'you call ... I 
mean you put money into the bank and go to sleep, and 
the money will what d'ye call it, will feed you while you 
sleep. It's filthy, that's what I call it; it's not right. 

Mitritch. Not right? Eh, old fellow, who cares about 



100 THE POWER OF DARKNESS 

that nowadays? And how clean they pluck you, too! 
That's the fact of the matter. 

A kirn {sighs). Ah, yes, seems the time's what d'ye call 
it, the time's growing ripe. There, I've had a look at the 
closets in town. What they've come to! It's all polished 
and polished I mean, it's fine, it's what d'ye call it, it's 
like inside an inn. And what's it all for? What's the 
good of it? Oh, they've forgotten God. Forgotten, I 
mean. We've forgotten, forgotten God, God, I mean! 
Thank you, my dear, I've had enough. I'm quite satisfied. 
[Rises. Mitritch climbs on to the oven. 

Anisya (cats, and collects the dishes). If his father 
would only take him to task! But I'm ashamed to tell him. 

Akim. What d'you say? 

Anisya. Oh! it's nothing. 
[Enter Nan. 

Akim. Here's a good girl, always busy! You're culd, I 
should think? 

Nan. Yes, I am, terribly. How d'you do, grandfather? 

Anisya. Well? Is he there? 

Nan. No. But Andriyan is there. He's been to town, 
and he says he saw them at an inn in town. He says Dad's 
as drunk as drunk can be! 

Anisya. Do you want anything to eat? Here you are. 

Nan {goes to the oven). Well, it is cold. My hands 
are quite numb. 

[Akim takes off his leg-bands and bast-shoes. An- 
isya washes up. 

Anisya. Father! 

Akim. Well, what is it? 

Anisya. And is Marina living well? 

Akim. Yes, she's living all right. The little woman is 
what d'ye call it, clever and steady; she's living, and what 
d'ye call it, doing her best. She's all right; the little 
woman's of the right sort I mean; painstaking and what 
d'ye call it, submissive; the little woman's all right I mean, 
all r!ght you know. 

Anisya. And is there no talk in your village that a rela- 
tive of Marina's husband thinks of marrying our Akoulina? 
Have you heard nothing of it? 



THE POWER OF DARKNESS 101 

Akitn. Ah; that's Mironof. Yes, the women did chat- 
ter something. But I didn't pay heed, you know. It don't 
interest me I mean, I don't know anything. Yes, the old 
women did say something, but I've a bad memory* bad 
memory, I mean. But the Mironofs are what d'ye call it, 
they're all right, I mean they're all right. 

Anisya. I'm that impatient to get her settled. 

A kirn. And why? 

Nan (listens). They've come! 

Anisya. Well, dcn't you go bothering them. 

[Goes on washing the spoons without turning her 
head. 

Nikitc^ (enters). Anisya! Wife! who has come? 
[Anisya looks up and turns away in silence. 

Nikita (severely). Who has come? Have you for- 
gotten? 

Anisya. Now don't humbug. Come in! 

Nikita (still more. severely). Who's come? 

Anisya (goes up and takes him by the arm). Well, 
then, husband has come. Now then, come in! 

Nikita (holds back). Ah, that's it! Husband! And 
what's husband called? Speak properly. 

Anisya. Oh bother you! Nikita! 

Nikita. Where have you learnt manners? The full 
name. 

Anisya. Nikita Akimitch! Now then! 

Nikita (still in the doorway). Ah, that's it! But 
now — the surname? 

Anisya (laughs and ptdls him by the arm). Tchilikin. 
Dear me, what airs! 

Nikita. Ah, that's it. (Holds on to the doar-post.) 
No, now say with which foot Tchilikin steps into this 
house! 

Anisya. That's enough! You're letting the cold in! 

Nikita. Say with which foot he steps? You've got to 
say it, — that's flat. 

Anisya (aside). He'll go on worrying. (To Nikita.) 
Well then, with the left. Come in! 

Nikita. Ah, that's it. 

Anisya. You look who's in the hut! 



102 THE POWER OF DARKNESS 

Nikita. Ah, my parent! Well, what of that? I'm not 
ashamed of my parent. I can pay my respects to my par* 
ent. How d'you do, father? (Boivs and puts out his hand,) 
My respects to you. 

Akim (does not answer). Drink, I mean drink, what it 
does! It's filthy! 

Nikita. Drink, what's that? I've been drinking? I'm 
to blame, that's flat! I've had a glass with a friend, drank 
his health. 

Antsy a. Go and lie down, I say. 

Nikita. Wife, say where am I standing? 

Anisya. Now then, it's all right, lie down! 

Nikita. No, I'll first drink a sa*novar with my parent. 
Go and light the samovar. Akoulina, I say, come here! 
[Enter Akoulina, smartly dressed and carrying their 
purchases. 

Akoulina. Why have you thrown everything about? 
Where's the yarn? 

Nikita. The yarn? The yarn's there. Hullo, Mitritch, 
where are you? Asleep? Asleep? Go and put the horse 

up ' 

Akim {not seeing Akoulina but looking at his son). 

Dear me, what is he doing? The old man's what d'ye call it, 

quite done up, I mean, — been thrashing, — and look at him, 

what d'ye call it, putting on airs! Put up the horse! 

Faugh, what filth! 

Mitritch (climbs down from the oven, and puts on felt 
boots). Oh, merciful Lord! Is the horse in the yard? 
Done it to death, I dare say. Just see how he's been swill- 
ing, the deuce take him. Up to his very throat. Oh Lord, 
Holy Nicholas! 

[Puts on sheepskin and exit. 

Nikita (sits down). You must forgive me, father. It's 
true I've had a drop; well, what of that? Even a hen will 
drink. Ain't it true? So you must forgive me. Never 
mind Mitritch, he doesn't mind, he'll put it up. 

Anisya. Shall I really light the samovar? 

Nikita. Light it! My parent has come. I wish to talk 
to him, and shall drink tea with him. (To Akoulina.) 
Have you brought all the parcels? 



THE POWER OF DARKNESS 103 

Akoulina. The parcels? I've brought mine, the rest's 
in the sledge. Hi, take this, this isn't mine! 

[Throws a parcel on the table and puts the others 
into her box. Nan watches her while she puts 
them away. Akim does not look at his son, but 
puts his leg-bands and bast-shoes on the oven. 

Antsy a (going out with the samovar). Her box is full 
as it is, and still he's bought more! 

Nikita (pretending to be sober) . You must not be cross 
with me, father. You think I'm drunk? I am all there, 
that's flat! As they say, "Drink, but keep your wits about 
you." I can talk with you at once, father. I can attend 
to any business. You told me about the money; your horse 
is worn-out, — I remember! That can all be managed. 
That's all in our hands. If it was an enormous sum that's 
wanted, then we might wait; but as it is I can do every- 
thing. That's the case. 

Akim (goes on fidgeting with the leg-bands). Eh, lad, 
"It's ill sledging when the thaw has set in." 

Nikita. What do you mean by that? "And it's ill talk- 
ing with one who is drunk?" But don't you worry, let's have 
some tea. And I can do anything; that's flat! I can put 
everything to rights. 

Akim (shakes his head). Eh, eh, eh! 

Nikita The money, here it is. (Puts his hand in his 
pocket, pulls out pocket-book, handles the notes in it and 
takes out a ten-rouble note.) Take this to get a horse; I 
can't forget my parent. I shan't forsake him, that's flat. 
Because he's my parent! Here you are, take it! Really 
now, I don't grudge it. (Comes up and pushes the note to- 
wards Akim, who won't take it. Nikita catches hold 
of his father's hand.) Take it, I tell you. I don't grudge 
it. 

Akim. I can't what d'you call it, I mean, can't take it! 
And can't what d'ye call it, talk to you, because you're 
not yourself, I mean. 

Nikita. I'll not let you go! Take it! 
[Puts the money into Akim's hand. 

Antsy a (enters, and stops). You'd better take it, he'll 
give you no peace! 



104 THE POWER OF DARKNESS 

Akim {takes it, and shakes his head). Oh! that liquor. 
Not like a man, I mean! 

Nikita. That's better! If you repay it you'll repay it, 
if not I'll make no bother. That's what I am! (Sees 
Akoulina.) Akoulina, show your presents. 

Akoulina. What? 

Nikita. Show your presents. 

Akoulina. The presents, what's the use of showing 'em? 
I've put 'em away. 

Nikita. Get them, I tell you. Nan will like to see 'em. 
Undo the shawl. Give it here. 

Akim. Oh, oh! It's sickening! 
[Climbs on the oven. 

Akoulina (gets out the parcels and puts them on the 
table). Well, there you are, — what's the good of looking at 
'em? 

Nan. Oh how lovely! It's as good as Stepanida's. 

Akoulina. Stepanida's? What's Stepanida's compared 
to this? (Brightening up and undoing the parcels.) Just 
look here, — see the quality! It's a French one. 

Nan. The print is fine! Mary has a dress like it, only 
lighter on a blue ground. This is pretty. 

Nikita. Ah, that's it! 

[Anisya passes angrily into the closet, returns with 
a tablecloth and the chimney of the samovar, and 
goes up to the table. 

Anisya. Drat you, littering the tablet 

Nikita. You look here! 

Anisya. What am I to look at? Have I never seen 
anything? Put it away! 

[Sweeps the shawl on to the floor with her arm. 

Akoulina. What are you pitching things down for? You 
pitch your own things about! 
[Picks up the shawl. 

Nikita. Anisya! Look here! 

Anisya. Why am I to look? 

Nikita. You think I have* forgotten you? Look here! 
(Shows her a parcel and sits down on it.) It's a present 
for you. Only you must earn it! Wife, where am I sit- 
ting? 






THE POWER OF DARKNESS 105 

Anisya. Enough of your humbug. I'm not afraid 01 
you. Whose money are you spreeing on and buying your 
fat wench presents with? Mine! 

Akoulina. Yours indeed? No fear! You wished to steal 
it, but it did not come off! Get out of the way! 
[Pushes her while trying to pass. 

Anisya. What are you shoving for? I'll teach you co 
shove! 

Akoulina. Shove me? You try! 
[Presses against Anisya. ; 

Nikita. Now then, now then, you women. Have done 
now! 

[Steps between them. 

Akoulina. Comes shoving herself in! You ought to keep 
quiet and remember your doings! You think no one knows! 

Anisya. Knows what? Out with it, out with it! What 
do they know? 

Akoulina. I know something about you! 

Anisya. You're a slut who goes with another's husband! 

Akoulina. And you did yours to death! 

Anisya (throwing herself on Akoulina). You're rav- 
ing! 

Nikita (holding her back). Anisya, you seem to have 
forgotten! 

Anisya. Want to frighten me! I'm not afraid of you! 

Nikita (turns Anisya round and pushes her out). Be 
off! 

Anisya. Where am I to go? I'll not go out of my own 
house! 

Nikita. Be off, I tell you, and don't dare to come in 
here! 

Anisya. I won't go! (Nikita pushes her, Anisya cries 
and screams and clings to the door.) What! am I to be 
turned out of my own house by the scruff of the neck? 
What are you doing, you scoundrel? Do you think there's 
no law for you? You wait a bit! 

Nikita. Now then! 

Anisya. I'll go to the Elder! To the policeman! 

Nikita. Off, I tell you! 
[Pushes her out. 



II 



106 THE POWER OF DARKNESS 

Antsy a {behind the door), I'll hang myself! 

Nikita. No fear! 

Nan. Oh, oh, oh! Mother, dear, darling! 
[Cries.] 

Nikita. Me frightened of her! A likely thing! What 
are you crying for? She'll come back, no fear. Go and 
see to the samovar. 
[Exit Nan. 

Akoidina {collects and folds her presents). The mean 
wretch, how she's messed it up. But wait a bit, I'll cut 
up her jacket for her! Sure I will! 

Nikita. I've turned her out; what more do you 
want? 

Akonlina. She's dirtied my new shawl. If that bitch 
hadn't gone away, I'd have torn her eyes out! 

Nikita. That's enough. Why should you be angry? 
Now if I loved her . . . 

Akoidina. Loved her? She's worth loving, with her fat 
mug! If you'd have given her up, then nothing would have 
happened. You should have sent her to the devil. And 
the house was mine all the same, and the money was mine! 
Says she is the mistress, but what sort of mistress is she 
to her husband? She's a murderess, that's what she is! 
She'll serve you the same way! 

Nikita. Oh dear, how's one to stop a woman's jaw? 
You don't yourself know what you're jabbering about! 

Akoulina. Yes, I do. I'll not live with her! I'll turn 
her out of the house! She can't live here with me. The 
mistress indeed! She's not the mistress, — that jailbird! 

Nikita. That's enough! What have you to do with her? 
Don't mind her. You look at me! I am the master! I 
do as I like. I've ceased to love her, and now I love you. 
I love who I like! The power is mine, she's under me. 
That's where I keep her. {Points to his feet.) A pity we've 
no concertina. 
[Sings. 

"We have loaves on the stoves, 
We have porridge on the shelf. 
So we'll live and be gay, 
Making merry every day, 



THE POWER OF DARKNESS 10? 

And when death comes, 

Then we'll die ! 

We have loaves on the stoves, 

We have porridge on the shelf . . ." 

[Enter Mitritch. He takes off his outdoor things 
and climbs on the oven. 
Mitritch. Seems the women have been fighting again! 
Tearing each other's hair. Oh Lord, gracious Nicholas! 

Akim (sitting on the edge of the oven, takes his leg- 
bands and shoes and begins putting them on) . Get in, get 
into the corner. 

Mitritch. Seems they can't settle matters between them. 
Oh Lord! 

Nikita. Get out the liquor, we'll have some with our 
tea. 

Nan (to Akoulina). Sister, the samovar is just boil- 
ing over. 

Nikita. And where's your mother? 
Nan. She's standing and crying out there in the passage. 
Nikita. Oh, that's it! Call her, and tell her to bring 
the samovar. And you, Akoulina, get the tea things. 
Akoulina. The tea things? All right. 

[Brings the things. 
Nikita (unpacks spirits, rusks, and salt herrings). 
That's for myself. This is yarn for the wife. The paraffin 
is out there in the passage, and here's the money. Wait a 
bit (takes a counting-frame); I'll add it up. (Adds.) 
Wheat-flour, 80 kopeykas, oil . . . Father, 10 roubles. 
. . . Father, come let's have some tea! 

[Silence. Akim sits on the oven and winds the 
bands round his legs. Enter Anisya with samo- 
var. 
Anisya. Where shall I put it? 

Nikita. Here on the table. Well! have you been to 
the Elder? Ah, that's it! Have your say and then eat 
your words. Now then, that's enough. Don't be cross; sit 
down and drink this. (Fills a wine-glass for her.) And 
here's your present. 

[Gives her the parcel he had been sitting on. An- 
isya takes it silently and shakes her head. 



108 THE POWER OF DARKNESS 

Akim (gets down and puts on his sheepskin, then comes 
up to the table and puts down the money). Here, take your 
money back! Put it away. 

Nikita (does not see the money). Why have you put 
on your things? 

Akim. I'm going, going, I mean; forgive me, for the 
Lord's sake. 

[Takes up his cap and belt. 

Nikita. My gracious! Where are you going to at this 
time of night? 

Akim. I can't, I mean what d'ye call 'em, in your house, 
what d'ye call 'em, can't stay I mean, stay, can't stay, 
forgive me. 

Nikita. But are you going without having any tea? 

Akim (jastens his belt). Going because, I mean, it's 
not right in your house, I mean, what d'you call it, not right, 
Nikita, in the house, what d'ye call it, not right! I mean, 
you are living a bad life, Nikita, bad, — I'll go. 

Nikita. Eh, now! Have done talking! Sit down and 
drink your tea! 

Antsy a. Why, father, you'll shame us before the neigh- 
bors. What has offended you? 

Akim. Nothing what d'ye call it, nothing has offended 
me, nothing at all! I mean only, I see, what d'you calf 
it, I mean, I see my son, to ruin, I mean, to ruin, I mean 
my son's on the road to ruin, I mean. 

Nikita. What ruin? Just prove it! 

Akim. Ruin, ruin; you're in the midst of it! What did 
I tell you that time? 

Nikita. You said all sorts of things! 

Akim. I told you, what d'ye call it, I told you about the 
orphan lass. That you had wronged an orphan — Marina, 
I mean, wronged her! 

Nikita. Eh! he's at it again. Let bygones be bygones 
... All that's past! 

Akim (excited). Past! No, lad, it's not past. Sin, I 
mean, fastens on to sin — drags sin after it, and you've 
stuck fast, Nikita, fast in sin! Stuck fast in sin! I 
see you're fast in sin. Stuck fast, sunk in sin, I 
mean! 



THE POWER OF DARKNESS 109 

Nikita. Sit down and drink your tea, and have done 
with it! 

Akim. I can't, I mean can't what d'ye call it, can't drink 
tea. Because of your filth, I mean; I feel what d'ye call it, 
I feel sick, very sick! I can't what d'ye call it, I can't 
drink tea with you. 

Nikita. Eh! There he goes rambling! Come to the 
table. 

Akim. You're in your riches same as in a net — you're 
in a net, I mean. Ah, Nikita, it's the soul that God 
needs! 

Nikita. Now really, what right have you to reprove me 
in my own house? Why do you keep on at me? Am I 
a child that you can pull by the hair? Nowadays those 
things have been dropped! 

Akim. That's true. I have heard that nowadays, what 
d'ye call it, that nowadays children pull their fathers' 
beards, I mean! But that's ruin, that's ruin, I mean! 

Nikita {angrily). We are living without help from 
you, and it's you w T ho came to us with your wants! 

Akim. The money? There's your money! I'll go beg- 
ging, begging I mean, before I'll take it, I mean. 

Nikita. That's enough! Why be angry and upset the 
whole company! 

[Holds him by the arm. 

Akim {shrieks). Let go! I'll not stay. I'd rather sleep 
under some fence than in the midst of your filth! Faugh! 
God forgive me! 
[Exit. 

Nikita. Here's a go! 

Akim {reopens the door) . Come to your senses, Nikita! 
It's the soul that God wants! 
[Exit. 

Akoulina {takes cups). Well, shall I pour out the tea? 
[Takes a cup. All are silent. 

Mitritch {roars). Oh Lord be merciful to me a sinner! 
[All start. 

Nikita (lies down on the bench). Oh, it's dull, it's 
dull! (To Akoulina.) Where's the concertina? 

Ahotdina. The concertina? He's bethought himself of 



110 THE POWER OF DARKNESS 

it. Why, you took it to be mended. I've poured out your 
tea. Drink it! 

Nikita. I don't want it! Put out the light. . . Oh, 
how dull I feel, how dull! 
[Sabs.] 

CURTAIN 



ACT IV 

Autumn, Evening. The moon is shining. The stage rep- 
resents the interior of courtyard. The scenery at the 
back shows, in the middle, the back porch of the hut. 
To the right the winter half of the hut and the gate; 
to the left the summer half and the cellar. To the 
right of the stage is a shed. The sound of tipsy voices 
and shouts are heard from the hut. 1 Second Neigh- 
bor Woman comes out of the hut and beckons to 
First Neighbor Woman. 
Second Neighbor. How's it Akoulina has not shown 
herself? 

First Neighbor. Why hasn't she shown herself? She'd 
have been glad to ; but she's too ill, you know. The suitor's 
relatives have come, and want to see the girl; and she, my 
dear, she's lying in the cold hut and can't come out, poor 
thing! 

Second Neighbor. But how's that? 
First Neighbor. They say she's been bewitched by an 
evil eye! She's got pains in the stomach! 
Second Neighbor. You don't say so? 
First Neighbor. What else could it be? 

[Whispers. 
Second Neighbor. Dear me! There's a go! But his 
relatives will surely find it out? 

First Neighbor. They find it out! They're all drunk! 
Besides, they are chiefly after her dowry. Just think what 
they give with the girl! Two furs, my dear, six dresses, 
a French shawl, and I don't know how many pieces of linen, 
and money as well, — two hundred roubles, it's said! 

Second Neighbor. That's all very well, but even money 

1 Where not otherwise mentioned in the stage directions, it is 
always the winter half of the hut that is referred to as "the hut." 
The summer half is not heated, and not used in winter under 
ordinary circumstances. 

ill 



112 THE POWER OF DARKNESS 

can't give much pleasure in the face of such a disgrace. 

First Neighbor. Hush! . . . There's his father, I 
think. 

[They cease talking and go into the hut. 
[The Suitor's Father comes out of the hut hic- 
coughing. 

The Father. Oh, I'm all in a sweat. It's awfully hot! 
Will just cool myself a bit. {Stands puffing.) The Lord 
only knows what — something is not right. I can't feel 
happy. — Well, it's the old woman's affair. 
[Enter Matryona from hut. 

Matryona. And I was just thinking, where's the father? 
Where's the father? And here you are, dear friend. . . . 
Well, dear friend, the Lord be thanked! Everything is as 
honorable as can be! When one's arranging a match 
one should not boast. And I have never learnt to boast. 
But as 3'ou've come about the right business, so with the 
Lord's help, you'll be grateful to me all your life! She's 
a wonderful girl! There's no other like her in all the 
district! 

The Father. That's true enough, but how about the 
money? 

Matryona. Don't you trouble about the money! All 
she had from her father goes with her. And it's more than 
one gets easily, as things are nowadays. Three times fifty 
roubles! 

The Father. We don't complain, but it's for our own 
child. Naturally we want to get the best we can. 

Matryona. I'll tell you straight, friend: if it hadn't been 
for me, you'd never have found anything like her! They've 
had an offer from the Karmilins, but I stood out against 
it. And as for the money, I'll tell you truly: when her 
father, God be merciful to his soul, was dying, he gave or- 
ders that the widow should take Nikita into the homestead 
— of course I know all about it from my son, — and the 
money was to go to Akoulina. Why, another one might 
have thought of his own interests, but Nikita gives every- 
thing clean! It's no trifle. Fancy what a sum it is! 

The Father. People are saying that more money was 
left her? The lad's sharp too! 






THE POWER OF DARKNESS 113 

Matryona. Oh, dear soul alive! A slice in another's 
hand always looks big; all she had will be handed over. 
I tell you, throw doubts to the wind and make all sure! 
What a girl she is! as fresh as a daisy! 

The Father. That's so. But my old woman and I were 
only wondering about the girl; why has she not come out? 
We've been thinking, suppose she's sickly? 

Matryona. Ah, ah. . . . Who? She? Sickly? Why, 
there's none to compare with her in the district. The girl's 
as sound as a bell; you can't pinch her. But you saw her 
the other day! And as for work, she's wonderful! She's 
a bit deaf, that's true, but there are spots on the sun, you 
know. And her not coming out, you see, it's from an evil 
eye! A spell's been cast on her! And I know the bitch 
who's done the business! They know of the betrothal and 
they bewitched her. But I know a counter-spell. The 
girl will get up to-morrow. Don't you worry about the 

girl! 

The Father. Well, of course, the thing's settled. 

Matryona. Yes, of course! Don't you turn back. And 
don't forget me, I've had a lot of trouble. Don't for- 
get .. . 

[A woman's voice from the hut. 

Voice. If we are to go, let's go. Come along, Ivan! 

The Father. I'm coming. 

[Exeunt. Guests crowd together in the passage and 
prepare to go away. 

Nan {runs out of the hut and calls to Anisya). 
Mother! 

Anisya (from inside.) What d'you want? 

Nan. Mother, come here, or they'll hear. 

[Anisya enters and they go together to the shed. 

Anisya. Well? What is it? Where's Akoulina? 

Nan. She's gone into the barn. It's awful what's she's 
doing there! I'm blest! "I can't bear it," she says. "I'll 
scream." she says, "I'll scream out loud." Blest if she 
didn't. 

Anisya. She'll have to wait. We'll see our visitors off 
first. 

Nan. Oh, mother! She's so bad! And she's angry too. 



114 THE POWER OF DARKNESS 

"What's the good of their drinking my health?" she says. 
"I shan't marry/' she says. "I shall die," she says. 
Mother, supposing she does die! It's awful. I'm so fright- 
ened! 

Antsy a. No fear, she'll not die. But don't you go near 
her. Come along. 

[Exit Anisya and Nan. 

Mitritch (comes in at the gate and begins collecting the 
scattered hay). Oh, Lord! Merciful Nicholas! What a 
lot of liquor they've been and swilled, and the smell they've 
made! It smells even out here! But no, I don't want 
any, drat it! See how they've scattered the hay about. 
They don't eat it, but only trample it under foot. A truss 
gone before you know it. Oh, that smell, it seems to be 
just under my nose! Drat it! (Yawns.) It's time to go to 
sleep! But I don't care to go into the hut. It seems to 
float just round my nose! It has a strong scent, the damned 
stuff! (The guests are heard driving off.) They're off 
at last. Oh Lord! Merciful Nicholas! There they go, 
binding themselves and gulling one another. And it's all 
gammon ? 

[Enter Nikita. 

Nikita. Mitritch, you get off to sleep and I'll put this 
straight. 

Mitritch. All right, you throw it to the sheep. Well, 
have you seen 'em all off? 

' Nikita. Yes, they're off! But things are not right! I 
don't know what to do! 

Mitritch. It's a fine mess. But there's the Foundlings' 1 
for that sort of thing. Whoever likes may drop one there; 
they'll take 'em all. Give 'em as many as you like, they 
ask no questions, and even pay — if the mother goes in 
as a wet-nurse. It's easy enough nowadays. 

Nikita. But mind, Mitritch, don't go blabbing. 

Mitritch. It's no concern of mine. Cover the tracks as 
you think best. Dear me, how you smell of liquor! I'M 
go in. Oh, Lord! 

[Exit, yawning. 

1 The Foundlings' Hospital in Moscow, where 80 to 90 per 
cent of the children die. 



THE POWER OF DARKNESS 115 

[Nikita is long silent. Site down on a sledge. 

Nikita. Here's a go I 
[Enter Anisya. 

Antsy a. Where are you? 

Nikita. Here. 

Anisya. What are you doing there? There's no time to 
be lost! We must take it out directly! 

Nikita. What are we to do? 

Anisya. I'll tell you what you are to do. And you'll 
have to do it! 

Nikita. You'd better take it to the Foundlings' — if 
anything. 

Anisya. Then you'd better take it there yourself if you 
like! You've a hankering for smut, but you're weak when 
it comes to settling up, I see! 

Nikita. What's to be done? 

Anisya. Go down into the cellar, I tell you, and dig a 
hole! 

Nikita. Couldn't you manage, somehow, some other 
way? 

Anisya {imitating him) . "Some other way?" Seems we 
can't "some other way!" You should have thought about 
it a year ago. Do what you're told to! 

Nikita. Oh, dear, what a go! 
[Enter Nan. 

Nan. Mother! Grandmother's calling! I think sister's 
got a baby! I'm blest if it didn't scream! 

Anisya. What are you babbling about? Plague take 
you! It's kittens whining there. Go into the hut and 
sleep, or I'll give it you! 

Nan. Mammy dear, truly, I swear . . . 

Anisya {raising her arm as if to strike). I'll give 
it you! You be off and don't let me catch sight of 
you! {Nan runs into hut. To Nikita.) Do as you're told, 
or else mind! 
[Exit. 

Nikita {alone. After a long silence). Here's a go! Oh, 
these women! What a fix! Says you should have thought 
of it a year ago. When's one to think beforehand? When's 
one to think? Why, last year this Anisya dangled after 



116 THE POWER OF DARKNESS 

me. What was I to do? Am I a monk? The master died; 
and I covered my sin as was proper, so I was not to blame 
there. Aren't there lots of such cases? And then those 
powders. Did I put her up to that? Why, had I known 
what the bitch was up to, I'd have killed her! I'm sure 
I should have killed her! She's made me her partner in 
these horrors — that jade! And 'she became loathsome to 
me from that day! She became loathsome, loathsome to 
me as soon as mother told me about it. I can't bear the 
sight of her! Well, then, how could I live with her? And 
then it begun. . . . That wench began hanging round. 
Well, what was I to do! If I had not done it, some one else 
would. And this is what comes of it! Still I'm not to 
blame in this either. Oh, what a go! (Sits thinking.) 
They are bold, these women! What a plan to think of! 
But I won't have a hand in it! 

[Enter Matryona with a lantern and spade, pant- 
ing. 

Matryona. Why are you sitting there like a hen on a 
perch? What did your wife tell you to do? You just get 
things ready! 

Nikita. What do you mean to do? 

Matryona. We know what to do. You do your share! 

Nikita. You'll be getting me into a mess! 

Matryona. What? You're not thinking of backing out, 
are you? Now it's come to this, and you back out! 

Nikita. Think what a thing it would be! It's a living 
soul. 

Matryona. A living soul indeed! Why, it's more dead 
than alive. And what's one to do with it? Go and take 
it to the Foundlings' — it will die just the same, and the 
rumor will get about, and people will talk, and the girl be 
left on our hands. 

Nikita. And supposing it's found out? 

Matryona. Not manage to do it in one's own house? 
We'll manage it so that no one will have an inkling. Only 
do as I tell you. We women can't do it without a man. 
There, take the spade, and get it done tLere, — I'll hold 
the light. 

Nikita. What am I to get done? 



THE POWER OF DARKNESS 117 

Matryona {in a low voice). Dig a hole; then we'll 
bring it out and get it out of the way in a trice! There, 
she's calling again. Now then, get in, and I'll go. 

Nikita. Is it dead then? 

Matryona. Of course it is. Only you must be quick, or 
else people will notice! They'll see or they'll hear! The 
rascals must needs know everything. And the policeman 
went by this evening. Well then, you see {gives him the 
spade), you get down into the cellar and dig a hole right 
in the corner; the earth is soft there, and you'll smooth it 
over. Mother earth will not blab to any one; she'll keep 
it close. Go then; go, dear. 

Nikita. You'll get me into a mess, bother you! I'll go 
away! You do it alone as best you can! 

Antsy a {through the doorway). Well? Has he dug it? 

Matryona. Why have you come away? What have 
you done with it? 

Anisya. I've covered it with rags. No one can hear it. 
Well, has he dug it? 

Matryona. He doesn't want to! 

Anisya {springs out enraged). Doesn't want to! How 
will he like feeding vermin in prison! I'll go straight 
away and tell everything to the police! It's all the same 
if one must perish. I'll go straight and tell! 

Nikita {taken aback). What will you tell? 

Anisya. What? Everything! Who took the money? 
You! (Nikita is silent.) And who gave the poison? I 
did! But you knew! You knew! You knew! We were 
in agreement! 

Matryona. That's enough now. Nikita dear, why are 
you obstinate? What's to be done now? One must take 
some trouble. Go, honey. 

Anisya. See the fine gentleman! He doesn't like it! 
You've put upon me long enough! You've trampled me 
under foot! Now it's my turn! Go, I tell you, or else I'll 
do what I said. . . . There, take the spade; there, now 
go! 

Nikita. Drat you! Can't you leave a fellow alone! 
{Takes the spade, but shrinks.) If I don't choose to, I'll 
not go! 



118 THE POWER OF DARKNESS 

Antsy a. Not go? (Begins to shout.) Neighbors! 
Heh! heh! 

Matryona (closes her mouth). What are you about? 
You're mad ! He'll go. . . . Go, sonny, go, my own. 

Antsy a. I'll cry murder! 

Nikita. Now stop! Oh, what people! You'd better be 
quick. ... As well be hung for a sheep as a lamb! 
[Goes towards the cellar. 

Matryona. Yes, that's just it, honey. If you know how 
to amuse yourself, you must know how to hide the conse- 
quences. 

Anisya (still excited). He's trampled on me ... he and 
his slut! But it's enough! I'm not going to be the only 
one! Let him also be a murderer! Then he'll know how 
it feels! 

Matryona. There, there! How she flares up! Don't 

you be cross, lass, but do things quietly little by little, as 

it's best. You go to the girl, and he'll do the work. 

[Follows Nikita to the cellar with a lantern. He 

descends into the cellar. 

Anisya. And I'll make him strangle his dirty brat! 
(Still excited.) I've worried myself to death all alone, with 
Peter's bones weighing on my mind! Let him feel it too! 
I'll not spare myself; I've said I'll not spare myself! 

Nikita (from the cellar). Show a light! 

Matryona (holds up the lantern to him. To Anisya). 
He's digging. Go and bring it. 

Anisya. You stay with him, or he'll go away, the wretch! 
And I'll go and bring it. 

Matryona. Mind, don't forget to, baptize it, or I will 
if you like. Have you a cross? 

Anisya. I'll find one. I know how to do it. 
[Exit. 

See at end of Act, Variation, which may be used instead of 

the following. 

Matryona. How the woman bristled up! But one 
must allow she's been put upon. Well, but with the Lord's 
help, when we've covered this business, there'll be an end 
of it. We'll shove the girl off without any trouble. My 



THE POWER OF DARKNESS 119 

son will live in comfort. The house, thank God, is as full 
as an egg. They'll not forget me either. Where would 
they have been without Matryona? They'd not have known 
how to contrive things. (Peering into the cellar.) Is it 
ready, sonny? 

Nikita (puts out his head) . What are you about there? 
Bring it quick! What are you dawdling for? If it is to 
be done, let it be done. 

Matryona {goes towards door of the hut and meets 
Anisya. Anisya comes out with a baby wrapped in rags). 
Well, have you baptized it? 

Anisya. Why, of course. It was all I could do to take 
it away — she wouldn't give it up! 

[Comes forward and hands it to Nikita. 

Nikita {does not take it). You bring it yourself! 

Anisya. Take it, I tell you! 
[Throws the baby to him. 

Nikita (catches it). It's alive! Gracious me, it's mov- 
ing! It's alive! What am I to . . . 

Anisya (snatches the baby from him and throws it into 
the cellar) . Be quick and smother it, and then it won't be 
alive! (Pushes Nikita down.) It's your doing, and you 
must finish it. 

Matryona (sits on the doorstep of the hut). He's ten- 
der-hearted. It's hard on him, poor dear. Well, what of 
that? Isn't it also his sin? 

[Anisya stands by the cellar. 

Matryona (sits looking at her and discourses). Oh, oh, 
oh! How frightened he was: well, but what of that? If 
it is hard, it's the only thing to be done. Where was one 
to put it? And just think, how often it happens that 
people pray to God to have children! But no, God gives 
them none; or they are all still-born. Look at our priest's 
wife now. . . . And here, where it's not wanted, here it 
lives. (Looks towards the cellar.) I suppose he's fin- 
ished. (To Anisya.) Well? 

Anisya (looking into the cellar). He's put a board 
on it and is sitting on it. It must be finished! 

Matryona. Oh, oh! One would be glad not to sin, but 
what's one to do? 



120 THE POWER OF DARKNESS 

[Re-enter Nikita from cellar, trembling all over. 

Nikita. It's still alive! I can't! It's alive! 

"Anisya. If it's alive, where are you off to? 
[Tries to stop him. 

Nikita {rushes at her). Go away! I'll kill you! 
(Catches hold of her arms; she escapes, he runs after her 
with the spade. Matryona runs towards him and stops 
him. Anisya runs into the porch. Matryona tries to 
wrench the spade from him. To his mother.) I'll kill you! 
I'll kill you! Go away! (Matryona runs to Anisya in 
the porch. Nikita stops.) I'll kill you! I'll kill you all! 

Matryona. That's because he's so frightened! Never 
mind, it will pass! 

Nikita. What have they made me do? What have they 
made me do? How it whimpered. . . . How it crunched 
under me! What have they done with me? . . . And it's 
really alive, still alive! (Listens in silence.) It's whimper- 
ing . . . There, it's whimpering. 
[Runs to the cellar. 

Matryona (to Anisya). He's going; it seems he means 
to bury it. Nikita, you'd better take the lantern! 

Nikita (does not heed her, but listens by the cellar 
door). I can hear nothing! I suppose it was fancy! 
(Moves away, then stops.) How the little bones crunched 
under me. Krr . . . kr . . . What have they made me do? 
(Listens again.) Again whimpering! It's really whimper- 
ing! What can it be? Mother! Mother, I say! 
[Goes up to her. 

Matryona. What is it, sonny? 

Nikita. Mother, my own mother, I can't do any more! 
Can't do any more! My own mother, have some pity on 
me! 

Matryona. Oh dear, how frightened you are, my dar- 
ling! Come, come, drink a drop to give you courage! 

Nikita. Mother, mother! It seems my time has come! 
What have you done with me? How the little bones 
crunched, and how it whimpered! My own mother! What 
have you done with me? 

[Steps aside and sits down on the sledge. 

Matryona. Come, my own, have a drink! It certainly 



THE POWER OF DARKNESS 121 

does seem uncanny at night-time. But wait a bit. When 
the day breaks, you know, and one day and another passes, 
you'll forget even to think of it. Wait a bit; when the girl's 
married we'll even forget to think of it. But you go and 
have a drink; have a drink! I'll go and put things straight 
in the cellar myself. 

Nikita {rouses himself). Is there any drink left? Per- 
haps I can drink it off! 
[Exit. 

[Anisya, who has stood all the time by the door, 
silently makes way for him. 

Matryona. Go, go, honey, and I'll set to work! I'll 
go down myself and dig! Where has he thrown the spade 
to? (Finds the spade, and goes down into the cellar.) 
Anisya, come here! Hold the light, will you? 

Anisya. And what of him? 

Matryona. He's so frightened! You've been too hard 
with him. Leave him alone, he'll come to his senses. God 
help him! I'll set to work myself. Put the lantern down 
here. I can see. 

[Matryona disappears into the cellar. 

Anisya (looking towards the door by which NikitX 
entered the hut). Well, have you had enough spree? 
You've been puffing yourself up, but now you'll know how it 
feels! You'll lose some of your bluster! 

Nikita (rushes out of the hut towards the cellar). 
Mother! Mother, I say! 

Matryona (puts out her head). What is it, sonny? 

Nikita (listening). Don't bury it, it's alive? Don't 
you hear? Alive! There — it's whimpering! There . • . 
quite plain! 

Matryona. How can it whimper? Why, you've flat- 
tened it into a pancake! The whole head is smashed to 
bits! 

Nikita. What is it then? (Stops his ears.) It's still 
whimpering! I am lost! Lost! What have they done 
with me? . . . Where shall I go? 
[Sits down on the step.] 

CURTAIN 



122 THE POWER OF DARKNESS 

VARIATION 

Instead of the end of Act IV. (from the words, "Anisya. 
I'll find one. I know how to do it. [Exit]") the fol- 
lowing variation may be read, and is the one usually 
acted. 

Scene ii 

The interior of the hut as in Act I. 

Nan lies on the bench, and is covered with a coat. Mix- 
ritch is sitting on the oven smoking. 

Mitritch. Dear me! How they've made the place smell! 
Drat 'em! They've been spilling the fine stuff. Even 
tobacco don't get rid of the smell! It keeps tickling one's 
nose so. Oh Lord! But it's bedtime, I guess. 
[Approaches the lamp to put it out. 

Nan {jumps up, and remains sitting up). Daddy 
dear, 1 don't put it out! 

Mitritch. Not put it out? Why? 

Nan. Didn't you hear them making a row in the yard? 
(Listens.) D'you hear, there in the barn again now? 

Mitritch. What's that to you? I guess no one's asked 
you to mind! Lie down and sleep! And I'll turn down the 
light. 

[Turns down lamp. 

Nan. Daddy darling! Don't put it right out; leave a 
little bit if only as big as a mouse's eye, else it's so 
frightening! 

Mitritch (laughs). All right, all right. (Sits down by 
her.) What's there to be afraid of? 

Nan. How can one help being frightened, daddy! Sis- 
ter did go on so! She was beating her head against the 
box! (Whispers.) You know, I know ... a little baby 
is going to be born. . . . It's already born, I think. . . . 

Mitritch. Eh, what a little busybody it is! May the 
frogs kick her! Must needs know everything. Lie down 
and sleep! (Nan lies down.) That's right! (Tucks her 
up.) That's right! There now, if you know too muc'^ 
you'll grow old too soon. 

1 Nan calls Mitritch "daddy" merely as a term of endearment. 






THE POWER OF DARKNESS 123 

Nan. And you are going to lie on the oven? 

Mitritch. Well, of course! What a little silly you are, 
mow I come to look at you! Must needs know everything. 
(Tucks her up again, then stands up to go.) There now, 
lie still and sleep! 

[Goes up to the oven. 

Nan. It gave just one cry, and now there's nothing to 
be heard. 

Mitritch. Oh Lord! Gracious Nicholas! What is it 
you can't hear? 

Nan. The baby. 

Mitritch. There is none, that's why you can't hear it. 

Nan. But I heard it! Blest if I didn't hear it! Such 
a thin voice! 

Mitritch. Heard indeed! Much you heard! Well, if 
you know, — why then it was just such a little girl as 
you that the bogey popped into his bag and made off 
with. 

Nan. What bogey? 

Mitritch. Why, just his very self! (Climbs up on to 
the oven.) The oven is beautifully warm to-night. Quite a 
treat! Oh Lord! Gracious Nicholas! 

Nan. Daddy! are you going to sleep? 

Mitritch. What else? Do you think I'm going to sing 
songs? 

[Silence. 

Nan. Daddy! Daddy, I say! They are digging! they're 
digging — don't you hear? Blest if they're not, they're 
digging! 

Mitritch. What are you dreaming about? Digging! 
Digging in the night! Who's digging? The cow's rub- 
bing herself, that's all. Digging indeed! Go to sleep I tell 
you, else I'll just put out the light! 

Nan. Daddy darling, don't put it out! I won't . . . 
truly, truly, I won't. It's so frightful! 

Mitritch. Frightful? Don't be afraid and then it won't 
be frightful. Look at her, she's afraid, and then says it's 
frightful. How can it help being frightful if you are afraid? 
Eh, what a stupid little girl! 

[Silence. The cricket chirps. 



124 THE POWER OF DARKNESS 

Nan {whispers). Daddy! I say, daddy! Are you 
asleep? 

Mitritch. Now then, what d'you want? 

Nan. What's the bogey like? 

Mitritch. Why, like this! When he finds such a one 
as you, who won't sleep, he comes with a sack and pops 
the girl into it, then in he gets himself, head and all, lifts 
her dress, and gives her a fine whipping! 

Nan. What with? 

Mitritch. He takes a birch-broom with him. 

Nan. But he can't see there — inside the sack! 

Mitritch. He'll see, no fear! 

Nan. But I'll bite him. 

Mitritch. No, friend, him you can't bite! 

Nan. Daddy, there's some one coming! Who is it? 
Oh gracious goodness! Who can it be? 

Mitritch. Well, if some one's coming, let them come! 
What's the matter with you? I suppose it's your 
mother! 

[Enter Anisya. 

Anisya (Nan pretends to be asleep). Mitritch! 

Mitritch. What? 

Anisya. What's the lamp burning for? We are going 
to sleep in the summer-hut. 

Mitritch. Why, you see I've only just got straight. I'll 
put the light out all right. 

Anisya (rummages in her box and grumbles). When a 
thing's wanted one never can find it! 

Mitritch. Why, what is it you are looking for? 

Anisya. I'm looking for a cross. Suppose it were to die 
unbaptized! It would be a sin, you know! 

Mitritch. Of course it would! Everything in due order. 
. . . Have you found it? 

Anisya. Yes, I've found it. 
[Exit. 

Mitritch. That's right, else I'd have lent her mine. Oh 
Lord! 

Nan (jumps up trembling). Oh, oh, daddy! Don't go 
to sleep; for goodness' sake, don't! It's so frightful! 

Mitritch. What's frightful? 



THE POWER OF DARKNESS 125 

Nan. It will die — the little baby will! At Aunt Irene's 
the old woman also baptized the baby, and it died! 

Mitritch. If it dies, they'll bury it! 

Nan. But maybe it wouldn't have died, only old Granny 
Matryona's there! Didn't I hear what granny was saying? 
I heard her! Blest if I didn't! 

Mitritch. What did you hear? Go to sleep, I tell you. 
Cover yourself up, head and all, and let's have an end of 
it! 

Nan. If it lived, I'd nurse it! 

Mitritch {roars). Oh Lord! 

Nan. Where will they put it? 

Mitritch. In the right place! It's no business of yours! 
Go to sleep I tell you, else mother will come; she'll give 
it you! 

[Silence. 

Nan. Daddy! Eh, daddy! That girl, you know, you 
were telling about — they didn't kill her? 

Mitritch. That girl? Oh yes. That girl turned out all 
right! 

Nan. How was it? You were saying you found her? 

Mitritch. Well, we just found her! 

Nan. But where did you find her? Do tell! 

Mitritch. Why, in their own house; that's where! We 
came to a village, the soldiers began hunting about in the 
house, when suddenly there's that same little girl lying on 
the floor, flat on her stomach. We were going to give her 
a knock on the head, but all at once I felt that sorry, that 
I took her up in my arms; but no, she wouldn't let me! 
Made herself so heavy, quite a hundredweight, and caught 
hold where she could with her hands, so that one couldn't 
get them off! Well, so I began stroking her head. It was 
so bristly, — just like a hedgehog! So I stroked and stroked, 
and she quieted down at last. I soaked a bit of rusk and 
gave it her. She understood that, and began nibbling. 
What were we to do with her? We took her; took her, and 
began feeding and feeding her, and she got so used to us 
that we took her with us on the march, and so she went 
about with us. Ah, she was a fine girl! 

Nan. Yes, and not baptized? 



126 THE POWER OF DARKNESS 

Mitritch. Who can tell! They used to say, not alto- 
gether. 'Cos why, those people weren't our own. 

Nan. Germans? 

Mitritch. What an idea! Germans! Not Germans, 
but Asiatics. They are just the same as Jews, but still 
not Jews. Polish, yet Asiatics. Curls . . . or, Curdlys is 
their name. . . . I've forgotten what it is! * We called the 
girl Sashka. She was a fine girl, Sashka was! There now, 
I've forgotten everything I used to know! But that girl — 
the deuce take her — seems to be before my eyes now! Out 
of all my time of service, I remember how they flogged 
me, and I remember that girl. That's all I remember! 
She'd hang round one's neck, and one 'ud carry her so. 
That was a girl, — if you wanted a better you'd not find 
one! We gave her away afterwards. The captain's wife 
took her to bring up as her daughter. So — she was all 
right! How sorry the soldiers were to let her go! 

Nan. There now, daddy, and I remember when father 
was dying, — you were not living with us then. Well, he 
called Nikita and says, "Forgive me, Nikita!" he says, 
and begins to cry. (Sighs.) That also felt very sad! 

Mitritch. Yes; there now, so it is . . . 

Nan. Daddy! Daddy, I say! There they are again, 

making a noise in the cellar! Oh gracious heavens! Oh 

dear! Oh dear! Oh, daddy! They'll do something to it! 

They'll make away with it, and it's so little! Oh, oh! 

[Covers up her head and cries. 

Mitritch (listening). Really they're up to some vil- 
lainy, blow them to shivers! Oh, these women are vile 
creatures! One can't say much for men either; but women! 
. . . They are like wild beasts, and stick at nothing! 

Nan (rising). Daddy; I say, daddy! 

Mitritch. Well, what now? 

Nan. The other day a traveller stayed the night; he 
said that when an infant died its soul goes up straight to 
heaven. Is that true? 

Mitritch. Who can tell? I suppose so. Well? 

Nan. Oh, it would be best if I died too. 
[Whimpers. 

1 Probably Kurds. 



THE POWER OF DARKNESS 12 V 

Mitritch. Then you'd be off the list! 

Nan. Up to ten one's an infant, and maybe one's soul 
would go to God. Else one's sure to go to the bad! 

Mitritch. And how to the bad? How should the likes 
of you not go to the bad? Who teaches you? What do 
you see? What do you hear? Only vileness! I, though 
I've not been taught much, still know a thing or two. I'm 
not quite like a peasant woman. A peasant woman, what is 
she? Just mud! There are many millions of the likes of 
you in Russia, and all as blind as moles — knowing noth- 
ing! All sorts of spells: how to stop the cattle-plague with 
a plough, and how to cure children by putting them under 
the perches in the hen-house! That's what they know! 

Nan. Yes, mother also did that! 

Mitritch. Yes, — there it is, — just so! So many millions 
of girls and women, and all like beasts in a forest! As she 
grows up, so she dies! Never sees anything; never hears 
anything. A peasant, — he may learn something at the 
pub, or maybe in prison, or in the army, — as I did. But 
a woman? Let alone about God, she doesn't even know 
rightly what Friday it is! Friday! Friday! But ask her 
what's Friday? She don't know! They're like blind pup- 
pies, creeping about and poking their noses into the dung- 
heap. ... All they know are their silly songs. Ho, ho, 
ho, ho! But what they mean by ho-ho, they don't know 
themselves ! 

Nan. But I, daddy, I do know half the Lord's Prayer! 

Mitritch. A lot you know! But what can one expect 
of you? Who teaches you? Only a tipsy peasant — with 
the strap perhaps! That's all the teaching you geil I 
don't know who'll have to answer for you. For a recruit, 
the drill-sergeant or the corporal has to answer; but for 
the likes of you there's no one responsible! Just as the 
cattle that have no herdsman are the most mischievous, so 
with you women — you are the stupidest class! The most 
foolish class is yours! 

Nan. Then what's one to do? 

Mitritch. That's what one has to do. . . . You just 
cover up your head and sleep! Oh Lord! 
[Silence. The cricket chirps. 



128 THE POWER OF DARKNESS 

Nan {jumps up). Daddy! Some one's screaming aw- 
fully! Blest if some one isn't screaming! Daddy darling, 
it's coming here! 

Mitritch. Cover up your head, I tell you! 
[Enter Nikita, followed by Matryona. 

Nikita. What have they done with me? What have 
they done with me? 

Matryona. Have a drop, honey; have a drop of drink! 
What's the matter? 

[Fetches the spirits and sets the bottle before him. 

Nikita. Give it here! Perhaps the drink will help me! 

Matryona. Mind! They're not asleep! Here you are, 
have a drop! 

Nikita. What does it all mean? Why did you plan it? 
You might have taken it somewhere! 

Matryona {whispers). Sit still a bit and drink a little 
more, or have a smoke. It will ease your thoughts! 

Nikita. My own mother! My turn seems to have come! 
How it began to whimper, and how the little bones 
crunched . . . krr . . . I'm not a man now! 

Matryona. Eh, now, what's the use of talking so silly! 
Of course it does seem fearsome at night, but wait till the 
daylight comes, and a day or two passes, and you'll forget 
to think of it! 

[Goes up to Nikita and puts her hand on his 
shoulder. 

Nikita. Go away from me! What have you done with 
me? 

Matryona. Come, come, sonny! Now, really, what's 
the matter with you? 

[Takes his hand. 

Nikita. Go away from me! I'll kill you! It's all one 
to me now! I'll kill you! 

Matryona. Oh, oh, how frightened he's got! You should 
go and have a sleep now! 

Nikita. I have nowhere to go; I'm lost! 

Matryona {shaking her head). Oh, oh, I'd better go 
and tidy things up. He'll sit and rest a bit, and it will 
pass! 

[Exit. 



THE POWER OF DARKNESS 129 

[Nikita sits with his face in his hands. Mitritch 
and Nan seem stunned. 

Nikita. It's whining! It's whining! It is really — 
there, there, quite plain! She'll bury it, really she will! 
{Runs to the door.) Mother, don't bury it, it's alive. . . . 
[Enter Matryona. 

Matryona (whispers). Now then, what is it? Heaven 
help you! Why won't you get to rest? How can it be 
alive? All its bones are crushed! 

Nikita. Give me more drink. [Drinks.] 

Matryona. Now go, sonny. You'll fall asleep now all 
right. 

Nikita (stands listening). Still alive . . . there . . g 
it's whining! Don't you hear? . . . There! 

Matryona (whispers). No! I tell you! 

Nikita. Mother! My own mother! I've ruined my 
life! What have you done with me? Where am I to go? 
[Runs out of the hut; Matryona follows him. 

Nan. Daddy dear, darling, they've smothered it! 

Mitritch (angrily). Go to sleep, I tell you! Oh dear, 
may the frogs kick you! I'll give it to you with the broom! 
Go to sleep, I tell you! 

Nan. Daddy, my treasure! Something is catching hold 
of my shoulders, something is catching hold with its paws! 
Daddy dear . . . really, really ... I must go! Daddy, 
darling! let me get up on the oven with you! Let me, 
for Heaven's sake! Catching hold . . . catching hold! 
Oh! 

[Runs to the stove. 

Mitritch. See how they've frightened the girl. . . . 
What vile creatures they are! May the frogs kick them! 
Well then, climb up. 

Nan (climbs on oven). But don't you go away! 

Mitritch. Where should I go to? Climb up, climb up! 
Oh Lord! Gracious Nicholas! Holy Mother! . . . How 
they have frightened the girl. (Covers her up.) There's a 
little fool — really a little fool! How they've frightened her; 
really, they are vile creatures! The deuce take 'em! 

CURTAIN 



ACT V ' 

Scene i 

In front of scene a stack-stand, to the left a thrashing 
ground, to the right a bam. The barn doors are open. 
Straw is strewn about in the doorway. The hut with 
yard and out-buildings is seen in the background, 
whence proceed sounds of singing and of a tambourine. 
Two Girls are walking past the barn towards the 
hut. 
First Girl. There, you see we've managed to pass with- 
out so much as getting our boots dirty! But to come by 
the street is terribly muddy! (Stop and wipe their boots 
on the straw. First Girl looks at the straw and sees some- 
thing.) What's that? 

Second Girl {looks where the straw lies and sees some 
one). It's Mitritch, their laborer. Just look how drunk 
he is! 

First Girl. Why, I thought he didn't drink. 
Second Girl. It seems he didn't, until it was going 
around. 

First Girl. Just see! He must have come to fetch some 
straw. Look! he's got a rope in his hand, and he's fallen 
asleep. 

Second Girl {listening). They're still singing the 
praises. 1 So I s'pose the bride and bridegroom have not yet 
been blessed! They say Akoulina didn't even lament! 2 

First Girl. Mammie says she is marrying against her 
will. Her stepfather threatened her, or else she'd not have 
done it for the world ! Why, you know what they've been 
saying about her? 

1 This refers to the songs customary at the wedding of Russian 
peasants, praising the bride and bridegroom. 

2 It is etiquette for a bride to bewail the approaching loss of 
her maidenhood. 

130 



THE POWER OF DARKNESS 131 

Marina (catching up the Girls). How d'you you do, 
lassies? 

Girls. How d'you do? 

Marina. Going to the wedding, my dears? 

First Girl. It's nearly over! We've come just to have a 
look. 

Marina. Would you call my old man for me? Simon, 
from Zouevo; but surely you know him? 

First Girl. To be sure we do; he's a relative of the 
bridegroom's, I think? 

Marina. Of course; he's my old man's nephew, the 
bridegroom is. 

Second Girl. Why don't you go yourself? Fancy not 
going to a wedding! 

Marina. I have no mind for it, and no time either. It's 
time for us to be going home. We didn't mean to come 
to the wed,ding. We were taking oats to town. We only 
stopped to feed the horse, and they made my old man»go in. 

First Girl. Where did you put up then? At Fy odor- 
itch's? 

Marina. Yes. Well then, I'll stay here and you go and 
call him, my dear — my old man. Call him, my pet, and 
say "Your missis, Marina, says you must go now!" His 
mates are harnessing. 

First Girl. Well, all right — if you won't go in yourself. 
[The Girls go away towards the house along a foot- 
path. Sounds of songs and tambourine. 

Marina {alone, stands thinking). I might go in, but I 
don't like to, because I have not met him since that day he 
threw me over. It's more than a year now. But I'd have 
liked to have a peep and see how he lives with his Anisya. 
People say they don't get on. She's a coarse woman, and 
with a character of her own. I should think he's remem- 
bered me more than once. He's been caught by the idea 
of a comfortable life and has changed me for it/ But, God 
help him, I don't cherish ill-will! Then it hurt! Oh dear, 
it was pain! But now it's worn away and been forgotten. 
But I'd like to have seen him. (Looks towards hut and sees 
Nikita.) Look there! Why, he is coming here! Have 
the girls told him? How's it he has left his guests? I'll 



132 THE POWER OF DARKNESS 

go away! (Nikita approaches, hanging his head down, 
swinging Ms arms, and muttering.) And how sullen he 
looks! 

Nikita (sees and recognises Marina). Marina, dearest 
friend, little Marina, what do you want? 

Marina. I have come for my old man. 

Nikita. Why didn't you come to the wedding? You 
might have had a look round, and a laugh at my expense! 

Marina. What have I to laugh at? I've come for my 
husband. 

Nikita. Ah, Marina dear! 
[Tries to embrace her. 

Marina (steps angrily aside). You'd better drop that 
sort of thing, Nikita! What has been is past! I've come 
for my husband. Is he in your house? 

Nikita. So I must not remember the past? You won't 
let me? 

Marina. It's no use recalling the past! What used to 
be is over now! 

Nikita. And can never come back, you mean? 

Marina. And will never come back! But why have 
you gone away? You, the master, — and to go away from 
the feast! 

Nikita (sits down on the straiv). Why have I gone 
away? Eh, if you knew, if you had any idea . . . I'm 
dull, Marina, so dull that I wish my eyes would not see! 
I rose from the table and left them, to get away from the 
people. If I could only avoid seeing any one! 

Marina (coming nearer to him). How's that? 

Nikita. This is how it is: when I eat, it's there! When 
I drink, it's there! When I sleep, it's there! I'm so sick 
of it — so sick! But it's chiefly because I'm all alone that 
I'm so sick, Marina. I have no one to share my trouble. 

Marina. You can't live your life without trouble, Nik- 
ita. However, I've wept over mine and wept it away. 

Nikita. The former, the old trouble! Ah, dear friend, 
you've wept yours away, and I've got mine up to there! 
[Puts his hand to his throat. 

Marina. But why? 

Nikita. Why, I'm sick of my whole life! I am sick of 



THE POWER OF DARKNESS 13: 

myself! Ah, Marina, why did you not know how to keep 
me? You've ruined me, and yourself too! Is this 
life? 

Marina {stands by the barn crying, but restrains her- 
self). I do not complain of my life, Nikita! God grant 
every one a life like mine. I do not complain. I confessed 
to my old man at the time, and he forgave me. And he 
does not reproach me. I'm not discontented with my life. 
The old man is quiet, and is fond of me, and I keep his 
children clothed and washed! He is really kind to me. 
Why should I complain? It seems God willed it so. And 
what's the matter with your life? You are rich . . . 

Nikita. My life! . . . It's only that I don't wish to 
disturb the wedding feast, or I'd take this rope here {takes 
hold of the rope on the straw) and throw it across that 
rafter there. Then I'd make a noose and stretch it out, 
and I'd climb on to that rafter and jump down with my 
head in the noose! That's what my life is! 

Marina. That's enough! Lord help you! 

Nikita. You think I'm joking? You think I'm drunk? 
I'm not drunk! To-day even drink takes no hold on me! 
I'm devoured by misery! Misery is eating me up com- 
pletely, so that I care for nothing! Oh little Marina, it's 
only with you I ever lived! Do you remember how we 
used to while away the nights together at the railway? 

Marina. Don't you rub the sores, Nikita! I'm bound 
legally now, and you too. My sin has been forgiven, don't 
disturb . . . 

Nikita. What shall I do with my heart? Where am I 
to turn to? 

Marina. What's there to be done? You've got a wife. 
Don't go looking at others, but keep to your own! You 
loved Anisya, then go on loving her! 

Nikita. Oh, that Anisya, she's gall and wormwood to 
me, but she's round my feet like rank weeds! 

Marina. Whatever she is, still she's your wife. . . . 
But what's the use of talking; you'd better go to your visi- 
tors, and send my husband to me. 

Xikita. Oh dear, if you knew the whole business . . . 
but there's no good talking! 



/ 

134 THE POWER OF DARKNESS 

[Enter Marina's husband, red and tipsy, and 
Nan. 

Marina's Husband. Marina! Missis! My old woman I 
are you here? 

Nikita. There's your husband calling you. Go! 

Marina. And you? 

Nikita. I? I'll lie down here for a bit! 
[Lies down on the straw. 

Husband. Where is she then? 

Nan. There she is, near the barn. 

Husband. What are you standing there for? Come to 
the feast! The hosts want you to come and do them hon- 
or! The wedding party is just going to start, and then 
we can go too. 

Marina (going towards her husband). I didn't want 
to go in. 

Husband. Come on, I tell you! You'll drink a glass to 
our nephew Peter's health, the rascal! Else the hosts 
might take offense! There's plenty of time for our busi- 
ness. 

[Marina's husband puts his arm around her, and 
goes reeling out with her. 

Nikita (rises and sits down on the straw). Ah, now 
that I've seen her, life seems more sickening than ever! 
It was only with her that I ever really lived! I've ruined 
my life for nothing! I've done for myself! {Lies down.) 
Where can I go? If mother earth would but open and swal- 
low me! 

Nan (sees Nikita, and runs towards him). Daddy, I 
say, daddy! They're looking for you! Her godfather and 
all of them have already blessed her. Truly they have, 
they're getting cross! 

Nikita (aside). Where can I go to? 

Nan. What? What are you saying? 

Nikita. I'm not saying anything! Don't bother! 

Nan. Daddy! Come, I say! (Nikita is silent, Nan 
pulls him by the hand.) Dad, go and bless them! My 
word, they're angry, they're grumbling! 

Nikita (drags away his hand). Leave me alone! 

Nan. Now then! 



THE POWER OF DARKNESS 135 

Nikita {threatens her with the rope). Go, I say! I'll 
give it you! 

Nan. Then I'll send mother! 
[Runs away. 

Nikita (rises). How can I go? How can I take the 

holy icon in my hands? How am I to look her in the 

face! (Lies down again.) Oh, if there were a hole in the 

ground, I'd jump in! No one should see me, and I should 

see no one! (Rises again.) No, I shan't go. . . . May 

they all go to the devil, I shan't go! (Takes the rope and 

makes a noose, and tries it on his neck.) That's the way! 

[Enter Matryona. Nikita sees his mother, takes 

the rope off his neck, and again lies down in the 

straw. 

Matryona (comes in hurriedly). Nikita! Nikita, I 
say! He don't even answer! Nikita, what's the matter? 
Have you had a drop too much? Come, Nikita dear; come, 
honey! The people are tired of waiting. 

Nikita. Oh dear, what have you done with me? I'm 
a lost man! 

Matryona. But what is the matter then? Come, my 
own; come, give them your blessing, as is proper and 
honorable, and then it'll all be over! Why, the people are 
waiting! 

Nikita. How can I give blessings? 

Matryona. Why, in the usual way! Don't you know? 

Nikita. I know, I know! But who is it I am to bless? 
What have I done to her? 

Matryona. What have you done? Eh, now he's going 
to remember it! Why, who knows anything about it? 
Net a soul! And the girl is going of her own accord. 

Nikita. Yes, but how? 

Matryona. Because she's afraid, of course. But still 
she's going. Besides, what's to be done now? She should 
have thought sooner! Now she can't refuse. And his kins- 
folks can't take offense either. They saw the girl twice, 
and get money with her too! It's all safe and sound! 

Nikita. Yes, but what's in the cellar? 

Matryona (laughs). In the cellar? Why, cabbages, 
mushrooms, potatoes, I suppose! Why remember the past?' 



136 THE POWER OF DARKNESS 

Nikita. I'd be only too glad to forget it; but I can't! 
When I let my mind go, it's just as if I heard. . . . Oh, 
what have you done with me? 

Matryona. Now, what are you humbugging for? 

Nikita (turns face downward). Mother! Don't tor* 
ment me! I'^e got it up to there! 
[Puts his hand to his throat. 

Matryona. Still it has to be done! As it is, people are 
talking. "The master's gone away and won't come; he 
can't make up his mind to give his blessing." They'll be 
putting two and two together. As soon as they see you're i 
frightened they'll begin guessing. "The thief none suspect 
who walks bold and erect!" But you'll be getting out ol 
the frying-pan into the fire! Above all, lad, don't show 
it; don't lose courage, else they'll find out all the more! 

Nikita. Oh dear! You have snared me into a trap! 

Matryona. That'll do, I tell you; come along! Come in 
and give your blessing, as is right and honorable; — and 
there's an end of the matter! 

Nikita (lies face down). I can't! 

Matryona (aside). What has come over him? He 
seemed all right, and suddenly this comes over him! It 
seems he's bewitched! Get up, Nikita! See! There's An- 
isya coming; she's left her guests! 

[Anisya enters, dressed up, red and tipsy. 

Antsy a. Oh, how nice it is, mother! So nice, so respect- 
able! And how the people are pleased. . . . But where 
is he? 

Matryona. Here, honey, he's here; he's laid down on the 
straw and there he lies! He won't come! 

Nikita (looking at his wife). Just see, she's tipsy too! 
When I look at her my heart seems to turn! How can 
one live with her? (Turns on his face.) I'll kill her some 
day! It'll be worse then! 

Anisya. Only look, how he's got all among the straw! 
Is it the drink? (Laughs.) I'd not mind lying down there 
with you, but I've no time! Come, I'll lead you! It is 
so nice in the house! It's a treat to look on! A con- 
certina! And the women singing so well! All tipsy! 
Everything so respectable, so nice! 



THE POWER OF DARKNESS 137 

Nikita. What's nice? 

Anisya. The wedding — such a jolly wedding! They all 
say it's quite an uncommon fine wedding. All so respect- 
able, so nice! Come along! We'll go together! I have 
had a drop, but I can give you a hand yet! 
[Takes his hand. 

Nikita {pulls it back with disgust). Go alone! I'll 
come! 

Anisya. What, are you humbugging for? We've got rid 
of all the bother, we've got rid of her as came between 
us; now we have nothing to do but to live and be merry! 
And all so respectable, and quite legal! I'm so pleased! 
I have no words for it! It's just as if I were going to 
marry you over again! And oh, the people, they are 
pleased! They're all thanking us! And the guests are 
all of the best: Ivan Moseitch is there, and the Police Offi- 
cer; they've also been singing songs of praise! 

Nikita. Then you should have stayed with them! What 
have you come for? 

Anisya. True enough, I must go back! Else what does 
it look like! The hosts both go and leave the visitors! 
And the guests are all of the best! 

Nikita {gets up and brushes the straw off himself) . Go, 
and I'll come at once! 

Matryona. Just see! He listens to the young bird, but 
wouldn't listen to the old one! He would not hear me, 
but he follows his wife at once! (Matryona and Anisya 
turn to go.) Well, are you coming? 

Nikita. I'll come directly! You go and I'll follow! I'll 
come and give my blessing! {The women stop.) Go on! 
I'll follow! Now then, go! {Exit women. Sits down and 
takes his boots off.) Yes, I'm going! A likely thing! No, 
you'd better look at the rafter for me! I'll fix the noose 
and jump with it from the rafter, then you can look for me! 
And the rope is here just handy. {Ponders.) I'd have got 
over it, over any sorrow — I'd have got over that. But 
this now — here it is, deep in my heart, and I can't get over 
it! {Looks towards the yard.) Surely she's not coming 
back? {Imitates Anisya.) "So nice, so nice. I'd lie down 
here with you." Oh, the baggage! Well, then, here I am! 



138 THE POWER OF DARKNESS 

Come and cuddle when they've taken me down from the 
rafter! There's only one way! 

[Takes the rope and pulls it. 

[Mitritch, who is tipsy, sits up and won't let go 
of the rope. 

Mitritch. Shan't give it up! Shan't give it to no onel 
I'll bring it myself! I said I'd bring the straw — and so I 
will! Nikita, is that you? (Laughs.) Oh, the devil! 
Have you come to get the straw? 

Nikiia. Give me the rope! 

Mitritch. No, you wait a bit! The peasants sent me! 
I'll bring it . . . (Rises to his feet and begins getting the 
straw together, but reels for a time, then falls.) It has 
beaten me. It's stronger . . . 

Nikita. Give me the rope! 

Mitritch. Didn't I say I won't! Oh, Nikita, you're as 
stupid as a hog! (Laughs.) I love you, but you're a fool!' 
You see that I'm drunk . . . devil take you! You think 
I need you? . . . You just look at me; I'm a Non . . . 
fool, can't say it — Non-commissioned Officer of Her Majes- 
ty's very First Regiment of Grenadier Guards! I've served 
Tsar and country, loyal and true! But who am I? You 
think I'm a warrior? No, I'm not a warrior; I'm the very 
least of men, a poor lost orphan! I swore not to drink, 
and now I had a smoke, and . . . Well then, do you think 
I'm afraid of you? No fear; I'm afraid of no man! I've 
taken to drink, and I'll drink! Now I'll go it for a fort- 
night; I'll go it hard! I'll drink my last shirt; I'll drink 
my cap; I'll pawn my passport; and I'm afraid of no one! 
They flogged me in the army to stop me drinking! They 
switched and switched! "Well," they say, "will you leave 
off?" "No," says I! Why should I be afraid of them? 
Here I ami Such as I am, God made me! I swore off 
drinking, and didn't drink. Now I've took to drink, and 
I'll drink! And I fear no man! 'Cos I don't lie; but just 
as . . . Why should one mind them — such muck as they 
are! "Here you are," I say; that's me. A priest told me, 
the devil's the biggest bragger! "As soon," says he, "as you 
begin to brag, you get frightened; and as soon as you fear 
men, then the hoofed one just collars you and pushes you 



THE POWER OF DARKNESS 139 

where he likes! " But as I don't fear men, I'm easy! I can 
spit in the devil's beard, and at the sow his mother! He 
can't do me no harm! There, put that in your pipe! 

Nikita {crossing himself). True enough! What was I 
about? 

[Throws down the rope. 

Mitritch. What? 

Nikita (rises). You tell me not to fear men? 

Mitritch. Why fear such muck as they are? You look 
at 'em in the bath-house! All made of one paste! One 
has a bigger belly, another a smaller; that's all the differ- 
ence there is! Fancy being afraid of 'em! Deuce take 
'em! 

Matryona {from the yard) . Well, are you coming? 

Nikita. Ah! Better so! I'm coming! 
[Goes towards yard.] 



Scene ii 

Interior of hut, full of people, some sitting round tables and 
others standing. In the front corner Akoultna and 
the Bridegroom. On one of the tables an Icon and a 
loaf of rye-bread. Among the visitors are Marina, her 
husband, and a Police Officer, also a Hired Driver, 
the Matchmaker, and the Best Man. The women 
are singing. Anisya carries round the drink. The sing- 
ing stops. 
The Driver. If we are to go, let's go! The church ain't 
so near. 

The Best Man. All right; you wait a bit till the step- 
father has given his blessing. But where is he? 

Anisya. He is coming — coming at once, dear friends! 
Have another glass, all of you; don't refuse! 

The Matchmaker. Why is he so long? We've been 
waiting such a time! 

Anisya. He's coming; coming directly, coming in no 
time! He'll be here before one could plait a girl's hair 
who's had her hair cropped! Drink, friends! {Offers the 
drink.) Coming at once! Sing again, my pets, meanwhile! 



140 THE POWER OF DARKNESS 

The Driver. They've sung all their songs, waiting here! 
[The women sing. Nikita and Akim enter during 
the singing. 

Nikita (holds his father's arm and pushes him in before 
him). Go, father; I can't do without you! 

Akim. I don't like — I mean what d'ye call it . . . 

Nikita (to the women). Enough! Be quiet! (Looks 
round the hut.) Marina, are you there? 

The Matchmaker. Go, take the icon, and give them 
your blessing! 

Nikita. Wait a while! (Looks round.) Akoulina, are 
you there? 

Matchmaker. What are you calling everybody for? 
Where should she be? How queer he seems! 

Anisya. Gracious goodness! Why, he's barefoot! 

Nikita. Father, you are here! Look at me! Christian 
Commune, jrou are a ii here, and I am here! I am . . . 
[Falls on his knees. 

Anisya. Nikita, darling, what's the matter with you? 
Oh, my head, my head! 

Matchmaker. Here's a go! 

Matrydna. I did say he was taking too much of that 
French wine! Come to your senses; what are you about? 
[They try to lift him; he takes no heed of them, but 
looks in front of him. 

Nikita. Christian Commune! I have sinned, and I wish 
to confess! 

Matrydna (shakes him by the shoulder). Are you 
mad? Dear friends, he's gone crazy! He must be taken 
away! 

Nikita (shakes her off). Leave me alone! And you, 
father, hear me! And first, Marina, look here! (Bows 
to the ground to her and rises.) I have sinned towards you! 
I promised to marry you, I tempted you, and forsook 
you! Forgive me, in Christ's name! 

[Again bows to the ground before her. 

Anisya. And what are you drivelling about? It's not 
becoming! No one wants to know! Get up! It's like 
your impudence! 

Matrydna. Oh, oh, he's bewitched! And however did 



THE POWER OF DARKNESS 141 

it happen? It's a spell! Get up! what nonsense are you 
jabbering? 

[Pulls him. 

Nikita {shakes his head). Don't touch me! Forgive 
me my sin towards you, Marina! Forgive me, for Christ's 
sake! 

[Marina covers her face with her hands in silence. 

Antsy a. Get up, I tell you! Don't be so impudent! 
What are you thinking about — to recall it? Enough hum- 
bug! It's shameful! Oh my poor head! He's quite crazy! 

Nikita (pushes his wife away and turns to Akoulina) . 
Akoulina, now I'll speak to you! Listen, Christian Com- 
mune! I'm a fiend, Akoulina! I have sinned against you! 
Your father died no natural death! He was poisoned! 

Anisya (screams). Oh my head! What's he about? 

Matryona. The man's beside himself! Lead him away! 
[The folk come up and try to seize him. 

Akim (motions them back with his arms). Wait! You 
lads, what d'ye call it, wait, I mean! 

Nikita. Akoulina, I poisoned him! Forgive me, in 
Christ's name! 

Akoulina (jumps up). He's telling lies! I know who 
did it! 

Matchmaker. What are you about? You sit still! 

Akim. Oh Lord, what sins, what sins! 

Police Officer. Seize him, and send for the Elder! We 
must draw up an indictment and have witnesses to it! 
Get up and come here! 

Akim (to Police Officer). Now you — with the bright 
buttons — I mean, you wait! Let him, what d'ye call it, 
speak out, I mean! 

Police Officer. Mind, old man, and don't interfere! I 
have to draw up an indictment! 

Akim. Eh, what a fellow you are; wait, I say! Don't 
talk, I mean, about, what d'ye call it, 'ditements' Here 
God's work is being done. ... A man is confessing, I 
mean! And you, what d'ye call it . . . 'ditements! 

Police Officer. The Elder! 

Akim. Let God's work be done, I mean, and then you. 
I mean you, do your business! 



142 THE POWER OF DARKNESS 

Nikita. And, Akoulina, my sin is great towards you; I 
seduced you; forgive me in Christ's name! 
[Bows to the ground before her. 

Akoulina (leaves the table). Let me go! I shan't be 
married! He told me to, but I shan't now! 

Police Officer. Repeat what you have said. 

Nikita. Wait, sir, let me finish! 

Akim {with rapture). Speak, my son! Tell every- 
thing — you'll feel better! Confess to God, don't fear men! 
God— God! It is He! 

Nikita. I poisoned the father, dog that I am, and I 
ruined the daughter! She was in my power, and I ruined 
her, and her baby! 

Akoulina. True, that's true! 

Nikita. I smothered the baby in the cellar with a board! 
I sat on it and smothered it — and its bones crunched! 
{Weeps.) And I buried it! I did it, all alone! 

Akoulina. He raves! I told him to! 

Nikita. Don't shield me! I fear no one now! Forgive 
me, Christian Commune! 

[Bows to the ground. 
[Silence. 

Police Officer. Bind him! The marriage is evidently 
off! 

[Men come up with their belts. 

Nikita. Wait, there's plenty of time! {Bows to the 
ground before his father.) Father, dear father, forgive me 
too, — fiend that I am! You told me from the first, when 
I took to bad ways, you said then, "If a claw is caught, 
the bird is lost!" I would not listen to your words, dog 
that I was, and it has turned out as you said! Forgive me, 
for Christ's sake! 

Akim {rapturously). God will forgive you, my own 
son! (Embraces him.) You have had no mercy on your- 
self; He will show mercy on you! God — God! It is 
He! 

[Enter Elder. 

Elder. There are witnesses enough here. 

Police Officer. We will have the examination at once. 
[Nikita is bound. 



THE POWER OF DARKNESS 143 

Akoulina {goes and stands by his side). I shall tell the 
truth! Ask me! 

Nikita {bound). No need to ask! I did it all myself. 
The design was mine, and the deed was mine. Take me 
where you like. I will say no more! 

CURTAIN 






FRUITS OF CULTURE 



CHARACTERS 

Leonid Fyodoritch Zvezdintsef. A retired Lieutenant of the 
Horse Guards. Owner of more than 60,000 acres of land in 
various provinces. A fresh-looking, bland, agreeable gentleman 
of 60. Believes in Spiritualism, and likes to astonish people with 
his wonderful stories. 

Anna Pavlovna Zvezdintseva. Wife of Leonid. Stout ; pre- 
tends to be young ; quite taken up with the conventionalities of 
life; despises her husband, and blindly believes in her doctor. 
Very irritable. 

Betsy. Their daughter. A young woman of 20, fast, tries to 
be mannish, wears a pince-nez, flirts and giggles. Speaks very 
quickly and distinctly. 

Vasily Leoniditch Zvezdintsef. Their son, aged 25; has 
studied law, but has no definite occupation. Member of the 
Cycling Club, Jockey Club, and of the Society for Promoting 
the Breeding of Hounds, Enjoys perfect health, and has imper- 
turbable self-assurance. Speaks loud and abruptly. Is either 
perfectly serious — almost morose, or is noisily gay and laughs 
loud. Is nicknamed Vovo. 

Alexey Vladimirovitch Krougosvetlof. A professor and 
scientist of about 50, with quiet and pleasantly self-possessed 
manners, and quiet, deliberate, harmonious speech. Likes to talk. 
Is mildly disdainful of those who do not agree with him. Smokes 
much. Is lean and active. 

The Doctor. About 40. Healthy, fat, red-faced, loud-voiced, 
and rough; with a self -satisfied smile constantly on his lips. 

Marya Konstantinovna. A girl of 20, from the Conserva- 
toire, teacher of music. Wears a fringe, and is super-fashion- 
ably dressed. Obsequious, and gets easily confused. 

Petristchef. About 28; has taken his degree in philology, and 
is looking out for a position. Member of the same clubs as 
Vastly Leoniditch, and also of the Society for the Organisation 
of Calico Balls. 1 Is bald-headed, quick in movement and speech, 
and very polite. 

The Baroness. A pompous lady of about 50, slow in her 
movements, speaks with monotonous intonation. 

The Princess. A society woman, a visitor. 

Her Daughter. An affected young society woman, a visitor. 

The Countess. An ancient dame, with false hair and teeth. 
Moves with great difficulty. 

Grossman. A dark, nervous, lively man of Jewish type. 
Speaks very loud. 

The Fat Lady : Marya Vasilyevna Tolbouhina. A very dis- 

1 Economical balls at which the ladies are bound to appear in 
dresses made of cotton materials. 

146 



THE POWER OF DARKNESS 147 

tinguished, rich, and kindly woman, acquainted with all ike 
notable people of the last and present generations. Very stout. 
Speaks hurriedly, trying to be heard above every one else. 
Smokes. 

Baron Klingen (nicknamed Koko). A graduate of Peters- 
burg University. Gentleman of the Bedchamber, Attache to an 
Embassy. Is perfectly correct in his deportment, and therefore 
enjoys peace of mind and is quietly gay. 

Two Silent Ladies. 

Sergey Ivanitch Sahatof. About 50, an ex-Assistant Minis- 
ter of State. An elegant gentleman, of wide European culture, 
engaged in nothing and interested in everything. His carnage 
is dignified and at times even severe. 

Theodore Ivanitch. Personal attendant on Zvezdintsef, aged 
about 60. A man of some education and fond of infortnaiion. 
Uses his pince-nez and pocket-handkerchief too much, unfolding 
the latter very slowly. Takes an interest in politics. Is kindly 
and sensible. 

Gregory. A footman, about 28, handsome, profligate, envious, 
and insolent. 

Jacob. Butler, about 40, a bustling, kindly man, to whom the 
interests of his family in the village are all-important. 

Simon. The butlers assistant, about 20, a healthy, fresh, 
peasant lad, fair, beardless as yet; calm and smiling. 

The Coachman. A man of about 35, a dandy. Has mous- 
taches but no beard. Rude and decided. 

A Discharged Man-Cook. About 45, dishevelled, unshaved, 
bloated, yellow and trembling. Dressed in a ragged, light sum- 
mer-overcoat and dirty trousers. Speaks hoarsely, ejecting the 
words abruptly. 

The Servants' Cook. A talkative, dissatisfied woman of 30. 

The Doorkeeper. A retired soldier. 

Tanya (Tatyana Markovna). Lady's-maid, 19, energetic, 
strong, merry, with quickly-changing moods. At moments, when 
strongly excited, she shrieks with joy. 

First Peasant. About 60. Has served as village Elder, 
Imagines that he knows how to treat gentlefolk, and likes to 
hear himself talk. 

Second Peasant. About 45, head of a family. A man of few 
words. Rough and truthful. The father of Simon. 

Third Peasant. About 70. Wears shoes of plaited bast. Is 
nervous, restless, hurried, and tries to cover his confusion by 
much talking. 

First Footman (in attendance on the Countess). An old man, 
with old-fashioned manners, and proud of his place. 

Second Footman. Of enormous size, strong, and rude. 

A Porter from a Fashionable Dressmaker's Shop. A fresh- 
faced man in dark-blue long coat. Speaks firmly, emphatically, 
and clearly. 

The action takes place in Moscow, in Zvezdintsef s house. 




ACT I 

The entrance hull of a wealthy house in Moscow. There are 
three doors: the front door, the door of Leonid Fyo- 
doritch's study, and the door of Vasily Leoniditch's 
room. A staircase leads up to the other rooms; behind 
it is another door leading to the servants' quarters. 

Scene i 

Gregory {looks at himself in the glass and arranges his 
hair, etc.). I am sorry about those moustaches of mine! 
"Moustaches are not becoming to a footman/' she says! 
And why? Why, so that any one might see you're a foot- 
man, — else my looks might put her darling son to shame. 
He's a likely one! There's not much fear of his coming 
anywhere near me, moustaches or no moustaches! {Smil- 
ing into the glass.) And what a lot of 'em swarm round 
me. And yet I don't care for any of them as much as for 
that Tanya. And she only a lady's-maid! Ah well, she's 
nicer than any young lady. {Smiles.) She's a duck! 
{Listening.) Ah, here she comes. {Smiles.) Yes, that's 
her, clattering with her little heels. Oh! 

[Enter Tanya, carrying a cloak and boots. 

Gregory. My respects to you, Tatyana Markovna. 

Tanya. What are you always looking in the glass for? 
Do you think yourself so good-looking? 

Gregory. Well, and are my looks not agreeable? 

Tanya. So, so; neither agreeable nor disagreeable, but 
just betwixt and between ! Why are all those cloaks hang- 
ing there? 

Gregory. I am just going to put them away, your lady- 
ship! {Takes down a fur cloak and, wrapping it round 
her, embraces her.) I say, Tanya, I'll tell you some- 
thing . . . 

149 



150 FRUITS OF CULTURE 

Tanya. Oh, get away, do! What do you mean by it? 
{Pulls herself angrily away.) Leave me alone, I tell you! 

Gregory {looks cautiously around). Then give me a 
kiss! 

Tanya. Now, really, what are you bothering for? I'll 
give you such a kiss! 

[Raises her hand to strike. 

Vastly Leoniditch {off the scene, rings and then shouts). 
Gregory ! 

Tanya. There now, go! Vasily Leoniditch is calling 
you. 

Gregory. He'll wait! He's only just opened his eyes! 
I say, why don't you love me? 

Tanya. What sort of loving have you imagined now? I 
don't love anybody. 

Gregory. That's a fib. You love Simon! You have 
found a nice one to love — a common, dirty-pawed peasant, 
a butler's assistant! 

Tanya. Never mind; such as he is, you are jealous of 
him! 

Vasily Leoniditch {off the scene). Gregory! 

Gregory. All in good time. . . . Jealous indeed! Of 
what? Why, you have only just begun to get licked into 
shape, and who are you tying yourself up with? Now, 
wouldn't it be altogether a different matter if you loved 
me? . . .1 say, Tanya . . . 

Tanya {angrily and severely). You'll get nothing from 
me, I tell you! 

Vasily Leoniditch {off the scene). Gregory! 

Gregory. You're mighty particular, ain't you? 

Vasily Leoniditch {off the scene, shouts persistently, 
monotonously, and with all his might). Gregory! Greg- 
ory! Gregory! 

[Tanya and Gregory laugh. 

Gregory. You should have seen the girls that have been 
sweet on me. 

[Bell rings. 

Tanya. Well then, so to them, and leave me alone! 

Gregory. You are a silly, now I think of it. I'm not 
Simon! 



FRUITS OF CULTURE 151 

Tanya. Simon means marriage, and not tomfoolery! 

[Enter Porter, carrying a large cardboard box. 
Porter. Good morning! 

Gregory. Good morning! Where are you from? 
Porter. From Bourdey's. I've brought a dress, and 
here's a note for the lady. 

Tanya {taking the note). Sit down, and I'll take it in. 
[Exit. 

[Vasily Leoniditch looks out of the door in shirt- 
sleeves and slippers. 
Vasily Leoniditch. Gregory! 
Gregory. Yes, sir. 

Vasily Leoniditch. Gregory! Don't you hear me 
call? 

Gregory. I've only just come, sir. 
Vasily Leoniditch. Hot water, and a cup of tea. 
Gregory. Yes, sir; Simon will bring them directly. 
Vasily Leoniditch. And who is this? Ah, from Bour- 
dier? 

Porter. Yes, sir. 

[Exeunt Vasily Leoniditch and Gregory. Bell 
rings. Tanya runs in at the sound of the bell 
and opens the front door. 
Tanya {to Porter). Please wait a little. 
Porter. I am waiting. 

[Sahatof enters at front door. 
Tanya. I beg your pardon, but the footman has just 
gone away. This way, sir. Allow me, please. 
[Takes his fur cloak. 
Sahatof {adjusting his clothes). Is Leonid Fyodoritch 
at home? Is he up? 
[Bell rings. 
Tdnya. Oh yes, sir. He's been up a long time. 

[Doctor enters and looks around for the footman. 
Sees Sahatof and addresses him in an offhand 
manner. 
Doctor. Ah, my respects to you! 
Sahdtof {looks fixedly at him) . The Doctor, I believe? 
Doctor. And I thought you were abroad! Dropped in 
to see Leonid Fyodoritch? 



152 FRUITS OF CULTURE 

Sahdtof. Yes. And you? Is any one ill? 

Doctor (laughing). Not exactly ill but, you know . . .. 
It's awful with these ladies! Sits up at cards till three 
every morning, and pulls her waist into the shape of a 
wine-glass. And the lady is flabby and fat, and carries the 
weight of a good many }*ears on her back. 

Sahdtof. Is this the way you state your diagnosis to 
Anna Pavlovna? I should hardly think it quite pleases her! 

Doctor (laughing). Well, it's the truth. They do all 
these tricks — and then come derangements of the digestive 
organs, pressure on the liver, nerves, and all sorts of things, 
and one has to come and patch them up. It's just awful! 
(Laughs.) And you? You are also a spiritualist, it seems? 

Sahdtof. I? No, I am not also a spiritualist. . . . 
Good morning! 

[Is about to go, but is stopped by the Doctor. 

Doctor. No! But I can't myself, you know, positively 
deny the possibility of it, when a man like Krougosvetlof is 
connected with it all. How can one? Is he not a pro- 
fessor, — a European celebrity? There must be something 
in it. I should like to see for myself, but I never have the 
time. I have other things to do. 

Sahdtof. Yes, yes! Good morning. 
[Exit, bowing slightly. 

Doctor (to Tanya). Is Anna Pavlovna up? 

Tanya. She's in her bedroom, but please come up. 
[Doctor goes upstairs. 

[Theodore Ivanitch enters with a newspaper in his 
hand. 

Theodore Ivanitch (to Porter). What is it you want? 

Porter. I'm from Bourdey's. I brought a dress and a 
note, and was told to wait. 

Theodore Ivanitch. Ah, from Bourdey's! (To Tanya.) 
Who came in just now? 

Tanya. It was Sergey Ivanitch Sahatof and the Doctor. 
They stood talking here a bit. It was all about spirit- 
alism. 

Theodore Ivanitch (correcting her). Spiritualism. 

Tdnya. Yes, that's just what I said — spiritalism. Have 
you heard how well it went off last time, Theodore Ivan- 



FRUITS OF CULTURE 153 

itch? {Laughs). There was knocks, and things flew 
about! 

Theodore Ivdnitch. And how do you know? 

Tanya. Miss Elizabeth told me. 

[Jacob runs in with a tumbler of tea on a tray. 

Jacob (to the Porter). Good morning! 

Porter {disconsolately). Good morning! 

[Jacob knocks at Vasily Leoniditch's door. 
[Gregory enters. 

Gregory. Give it here. 

Jacob. You didn't bring back all yesterday's tumblers, 
nor the tray Vasily Leoniditch had. And it's me that have 
to answer for them! 

Gregory. The tray is full of cigars. 

Jacob. Well, put them somewhere else. It's me who's 
answerable for it. 

Gregory. I'll bring it back! I'll bring it back! 

Jacob. Yes, so you say, but it is not where it ought to 
be. The other day, just as the tea had to be served, it 
was not to be found. 

Gregory. I'll bring it back, I tell you. What a 
fuss! 

Jacob. It's easy for you to talk. Here am I serving tea 
for the third time, and now there's the lunch to get ready. 
One does nothing but rush about the livelong day. Is 
there any one in the house who has more to do than me? 
Yet they are never satisfied with me. 

Gregory. Dear me! Who could wish for any one more 
satisfactory? You're such a fine fellow! 

Tanya. Nobody is good enough for you! You 
alone . . . 

Gregory {to Tanya). No one asked your opinion! 
[Exit. 

Jacob. Ah, well, I don't mind. Tatyana Markovna, did 
the mistress say anything about yesterday? 

Tanya. About the lamp, you mean? 

Jacob. And how it managed to drop out of my hands, 
the Lord only knows! Just as I began rubbing it, and 
was going to take hold of it in another place, out it slips 
and goes all to pieces. It's just my luck! It's easy for 



154 FRUITS OF CULTURE 

that Gregory Mihaylitch to talk — a single man like him! 
But when one has a family, one has to consider things: 
they have to be fed. I don't mind work. ... So she 
didn't say anything? The Lord be thanked! . . . Oh, 
Theodore Ivanitch, have you one spoon or two? 

Theodore Ivanitch. One. Only one! 
[Reads newspaper. 
[Exit Jacob. 

[Bell rings. Enter Gregory {carrying a tray) and 
the Doorkeeper. 

Doorkeeper (to Gregory). Tell the master some 
peasants have come from the village. 

Gregory (pointing to Theodore Ivanitch). Tell the 
major-domo here, it's his business. I have no time. 
[Exit. 

Tanya. Where are these peasants from? 

Doorkeeper. From Koursk, I think. 

Tanya, (shrieks with delight). It's them. . . . It's 
Simon's father come about the land! I'll go and meet 
them! 

[Runs off. 

Doorkeeper. Well, then, what shall I say to them? Shall 
they come in here? They say they've come about the land 
— the master knows, they say. 

Theodore Ivanitch. Yes, they want to purchase some 
land. All right! But he has a visitor now, so you had 
better tell them to wait. 

Doorkeeper. Where shall they wait? 

Theodore Ivanitch. Let them wait outside. I'll send 
for them when the time comes. 
[Exit Doorkeeper. 
[Enter Tanya, followed by three Peasants. 

Tanya. To the right. In here! In here! 

Theodore Ivanitch. I did not want them brought in 
here! 

Gregory. Forward minx! 

Tanya. Oh, Theodore Ivanitch, it won't matter, they'll 
stand in this corner. 

Theodore Ivanitch. They'll dirty the floor. 

Tanya. They've scraped their shoes, and I'll wipe the 



FRUITS OF CULTURE 155 

floor up afterwards. (To Peasants.) Here, stand just 
here. 

[Peasants come forward, carrying presents tied in 
cotton handkerchiefs: cake, eggs and embroid- 
ered towels. They look around for an icon be- 
fore which to cross themselves ; not finding one, 
they cross themselves, looking at the staircase. 
Gregory {to Theodore Ivanitch). There now, Theo- 
dore Ivanitch, they say Pironnet's boots are an elegant 
shape. But those there are ev^r so much better. 

[Pointing to the third Peasant's bast shoes. 
Theodore Ivanitch. Why will you always be ridiculing 
people? 

[Exit Gregory. 
Theodore Ivanitch (rises and goes up to the Peasants). 
So you are from Koursk? And have come to arrange about 
buying some land? 

First Peasant. Just so. We might say, it is for the 
completion of the purchase of the land we have come. 
How could we announce ourselves to the master? 

Theodore Ivanitch. Yes, yes, I know. You wait a bit 
and I'll go and inform him. 
[Exit. 

[The Peasants look around; they are embarrassed 
where to put their presents. 
First Peasant. There now, couldn't we have what d'you 
call it? Something to present these here things on? To 
do it in a genteel way, like, — a little dish or something. 

Tanya. All right, directly; put them down here for the 
present. 

[Puts bundles on settle. 
First Peasant. There now, — that respectable gentleman 
that was here just now, — what might be his station? 
Tanya. He's the master's valet. 

First Peasant. I see. So he's also in service. And you, 
now, are you a servant too? 

Tanya. I am lady's-maid. Do you know, I also come 
from Demen! I know you, and you, but I don't know 
him. 

[Pointing to third Peasant. 



156 FRUITS OF CULTURE 

Third Peasant. Them two you know, but me you don't 
know? 

Tanya. You are Efim Antonitch. 

First Peasant. That's just it! 

Tanya. And you are Simon's father, Zachary Tri- 
fanitch. 

Second Peasant. Right! 

Third Peasant. And let me tell you, I'm Mitry Vlasitch 
Tchilikin. Now do you know? 

Tanya. Now I shall know you too! 

Second Peasant. And who may you be? 

Tanya. I am Aksinya's, the soldier's wife's, orphan. 

First and Third Peasants (with surprise). Never! 

Second Peasant. The proverb says true: 

"Buy a penny pig, put it in the rye, 
And you'll have a wonderful fat porker by-and-by." 

First Peasant. That's just it! She's got the resem- 
blance of a duchess! 

Third Peasant. That be so truly. Oh Lord! 

Vastly Leoniditch (off the scene, rings, and then shouts). 
Gregory! Gregory! 

First Peasant. Now who's that, for example, disturbing 
himself in such a way, if I may say so? 

Tanya. That's the young master. 

Third Peasant. Oh Lord! Didn't I say we'd better wait 
outside until the time comes? 
[Silence. 

Second Peasant. Is it you, Simon wants to marry? 

Tanya. Why, has he been writing? 
[Hides her face in her apron. 

Second Peasant. It's evident he's written! But it's a 
bad business he's imagined here. I see the lad's got 
spoilt! 

Tanya (quickly). No, he's not at all spoilt! Shall I 
send him to you? 

Second Peasant. Why send him? All in good time. 
Where's the hurry? 

Vastly Leoniditch (desperately, behind scene). Greg- 
ory! Where the devil are you? . . . 



FRUITS OF CULTURE 157 

[Enters from his room in shirt-sleeves, adjusting his 
pince-nez. 
Vastly Leoniditch. Is every one dead? 
Tanya. He's not here, sir. . . . I'll send him to you at 
once. 

[Moves towards the back door. 
Vastly Leoniditch. I could hear you talking, you know. 
How have these scarecrows sprung up here? Eh? What? 
Tanya. They're peasants from the Koursk village, sir. 

[Peasants bow. 
Vastly Leoniditch. And who is this? Oh yes, from 
Bourdier. 

[Vasily Leoniditch pays no attention to the Peas- 
ants' bow. Tanya meets Gregory at the door- 
way and remains on the scene. 
Vasily Leoniditch {to Gregory). I told you the other 
boots. ... I can't wear these! 

Gregory. Well, the others are also there. 
Vasily Leoniditch. But where is there? 
Gregory. Just in the same place! 
Vasily Leoniditch. They're not! 
Gregory. Well, come and see. 

[Exeunt Gregory and Vasily Leoniditch. 
Third Peasant. Say, now, might we not in the meantime 
just go and wait, say, in some lodging-house or somewhere? 
Tanya. No, no, wait a little. I'll go and bring you 
some plates to put the presents on. 
k [Exit. 
[Enter Sahatof and Leonid Fyodoritch, followed 

by Theodore Ivanitch. 
[The Peasants take up the presents 9 and pose 
themselves. 
Leonid Fyodoritch {to Peasants). Presently, pres- 
ently! Wait a bit! {Points to Porter.) Who is this? 
Porter. From Bourdey's. 
Leonid Fyodoritch. Ah, from Bourdier. 
Sahatof {smiling). Well, I don't deny it: still you 
understand that, never having seen it, we, the uninitiated, 
have some difficulty in believing. 

Leonid Fyodoritch. You say you find it difficult to be- 



158 FRUITS OF CULTURE 

lieve! We do not ask for faith; all we demand of you is 
to investigate! How can I help believing in this ring? 
Yet this ring came from there! 

Sahdtof. From there? What do you mean? From 
where? 

Leonid Fyddoritch. From the other world. Yes! 

Sahdtof (smiling). That's very interesting — very in- 
teresting! 

Leonid Fyddoritch. Well, supposing we admit that I'm 
a man carried away by an idea, as you think, and that I 
am deluding myself. Well, but what of Alexey Vladimir- 
itch Krougosvetlof — he is not just an ordinary man, but 
a distinguished professor, and yet he admits it to be a fact. 
And not he alone. What of Crookes? What of Wallace? 

Sahdtof. But I don't deny anything. I only say it is 
very interesting. It would be interesting to know how 
Krougosvetlof explains it! 

Leonid Fyddoritch. He has a theory of his own. Could 
you come to-night? — he is sure to be here. First we shall 
have Grossman — you know, the famous thought-reader? 

Sahdtof. Yes, I have heard of him but have never hap- 
pened to meet him. 

Leonid Fyddoritch. Then you must come! We shall 
first have Grossman, then Kaptchitch, and our mediumistic 
seance. . . . {To Theodore Ivanitch.) Has the man re- 
turned from Kaptchitch? 

Theodore Ivanitch. Not yet, sir. 

Sahdtof. Then how am I to know? 

Leonid Fyddoritch. Never mind, come in any case! If 
Kaptchitch can't come we shall find our own medium. 
Marya Ignatievna is a medium — not such a good one as 
Kaptchitch, but still . . . 

[Tanya enters with plates for the presents, and 
stands listening. 

Sahdtof (smiling). Oh, yes, yes. But here is one puz- 
zling point: — how is it that the mediums are always of the, 
so-called, educated class, such as Kaptchitch and Marya 
Ignatievna? If there were such a special force, would it 
not be met with also among the common people — the peas- 
ants? 



FRUITS OF CULTURE 159 

Leonid Fyodoritch. Oh yes, and it is! That is very 
common. Even here in our own house we have a peasant 
whom we discovered to be a medium. A few days ago 
we called him in — a sofa had to be moved, during a seance 
— and we forgot all about him. In all probability he fell 
asleep. And, fancy, after our seance was over and Kapt- 
chitch had come to again, we suddenly noticed mediumistic 
phenomena in another part of the room, near the peasant: 
the table gave a jerk and moved! 

Tanya (aside). That was when I was getting out from 
under it! 

Leonid Fyodoritch. It is quite evident he also is a me- 
dium. Especially as he is very like Home in appearance. 
You remember Home — a fair-haired naif sort of fellow? 

Sahdtof (shrugging his shoulders). Dear me, this is 
very interesting, you know. I think you should try him. 

Leonid Fyodoritch. So we will! And he is not alone; 
there are thousands of mediums, only we do not know 
them. Why, only a short time ago a bedridden old woman 
moved a brick wall! 

Sahdtof. Moved a brick ... a brick wall? 

Leonid Fyodoritch. Yes, yes. She was lying in bed, 
and did not even know she was a medium. She just leant 
her arm against the wall, and the wall moved! 

Sahdtof. And did not cave in? 

Leonid Fyodoritch. And did not cave in. 

Sahdtof. Very strange! Well, then, I'll come this even- 
ing. 

Leonid Fyodoritch. Pray, do. We shall have a seance 
in any case. 

[Sahatof puts on his outdoor things; Leonid Fyo- 
doritch sees him to the door. 

Porter (to Tanya). Do tell your mistress! Am I to 
spend the night here? 

Tanya. Wait a little; she's going to drive out with the 
young lady, so she'll soon be coming downstairs. 
[Exit. 

Leonid Fyodoritch (comes up to the Peasants, who 
bow and' offer him their presents). That's not necessary! 

First Peasant (smiling), Oh, but this-here is our first 



160 FRUITS OF CULTURE 

duty, it is! It's also the Commune's orders that we should 
do it! 

Second Peasant. That's always been the proper way. 

Third Peasant. Say no more about it! 'Cause as we are 
much satisfied. ... As our parents, let's say, served, let's 
say, your parents, so we would like the same with all our 
hearts . . . and not just anyhow! 
[Boivs. 

Leonid Fyodoritch. But what is it about? What do you 
want? 

First Peasant. It's to your honor we've come . . . 

[Enter Petristchef briskly, in jur-lined overcoat. 

Petristchej. Is Vasily Leoniditch awake yet? 

[Seeing Leonid Fyodoritch, bows, moving only his 
head. 

Leonid Fyodoritch. You have come to see my son? 

Petristchef. I? Yes, just to see Vovo for a moment. 

Leonid Fyodoritch. Step in, step in. 

[Petristchef takes off his overcoat and walks in 
briskly. Exit. 

Leonid Fyodoritch (to Peasants). Well, what is it 
you want? 

Second Peasant. Please accept our presents! 

First Peasant (smiling). That's to say, the peasants' 
offerings. 

Third Peasant. Say no more about it; what's the good? 
We wish you the same as if you were our own father! Say 
no more about it! 

Leonid Fyodoritch. All right. Here, Theodore, take 
these. 

Theodore Ivdnitch (to Peasants). Give them here. 
[Takes the presents. 

Leonid Fyodoritch. Well, what is the business? 

First Peasant. We've come to your honor . . . 

Leonid Fyodoritch. I see you have; but what do yot 
want? 

First Peasant. It's about making a move towards com- 
pleting the sale of the land. It comes to this . . . 

Leonid Fyodoritch. Do you mean to buy the 'land? 

First Peasant. That's just it. It comes to this . . . 



FRUITS OF CULTURE 161 

mean the buying of the property of the land. The Com- 
mune has given us, let's say, the power of atturning, to 
enter, let's say, as is lawful, through the Government bank, 
with a stamp for the lawful amount. 

Leonid Fyodoritch. You mean that you want to buy the 
land through the land-bank. 

First Peasant. That's just it. Just as you offered it to 
us last year. It comes to this, then, the whole sum in full 
for the buying of the property of the land is 32,864 roubles. 

Leonid Fyodoritch. That's all right, but how about pay- 
ing up? 

First Peasant. As to the payment, the Commune offers 
just as it was said last year — to pay in 'stalments, and 
your receipt of the ready money by lawful regulations, 
4000 roubles in full. 1 

Second Peasant. Take 4000 now, and wait for the rest 
of the money. 

Third Peasant {unwrapping a parcel of money). And 
about this be quite easy. We should pawn our own selves 
rather than do such a thing just anyhow say, but in this 
way, let's say, as it ought to be done. 

'Leonid Fyodoritch. But did I not write and tell you 
that I should not agree to it unless you brought the whole 
sum? 

First Peasant. That's just it. It would be more agree- 
able, but it is not in our possibilities, I mean. 

Leonid Fyodoritch. Well then, the thing can't be 
done! 

First Peasant. The Commune, for example, relied its 
hopes on that, that you made the offer last year to sell 
it in easy 'stalments . . . 

Leonid Fyodoritch. That was last year. I would have 
agreed to it then, but now I can't. 

Second Peasant. But how's that? We've been depend- 
ing on your promise — we've got the papers ready and have 
collected the money! 

Third Peasant. Be merciful, master! We're short of 
land; we'll say nothing about cattle, but even a hen, let's 

1 The present value of the rouble is rather over fifty cents. 



162 FRUITS OF CULTURE 

say, we've no room to keep. (Bows.) Don't wrong us, 
master! 

[Boms. 

Leonid Fyodoritch. Of course it's quite true, that I 
agreed last year to let you have the land for payment by 
instalments, but now circumstances are such that it would 
be inconvenient. 

Second Peasant. Without this land we cannot live! 

First Peasant. That's just it. Without land our lives 
must grow weaker and come to a decline. 

Third Peasant {bowing). Master, we have so little 
land, let's not talk about the cattle, but even a chicken, let's 
say, we've no room for. Master, be merciful, accept the 
money, master! 

Leonid Fyodoritch (examining the document). I 
quite understand, and should like to help you. Wait a little; 
I will give you an answer in half-an-hour. . . . Theodore, 
say I am engaged and am not to be disturbed. 

Theodore Ivdnitch. Yes, sir. 
[Exit Leonid Fyodoritch. 
[The Peasants look dejected. 

Second Peasant. Here's a go! "Give me the whole 
sum," he says. And where are we to get it from? 

First Peasant. If he had not given us hopes, for exam- 
ple. As it is we felt quite insured it would be as was said 
last year. 

Third Peasant. Oh, Lord! and I had begun unwrapping 
the monej/. (Begins wrapping up the bundle of bank-notes 
again.) What are we to do now? 

Theodore Ivdnitch. What is your business, then? 

First Peasant. Our business, respected sir, depends in 
this. Last year he made us the offer of our buying the 
land in 'stalments. The Commune entered upon these terms 
and gave us the powers of atturning, and now d'you see 
he makes the offering that we should pay the whole in full! 
And as it turns out, the business is no ways convenient 
for us. 

Theodore Ivdnitch. What is the whole sum? 

First Peasant. The whole sum in readiness is 4000 rou- 
bles, you £ee. 



FRUITS OF CULTURE 163 

Theodore Ivdnitch. Well, what of that? Make an effort 
and collect more. 

First Peasant. Such as it is, it was collected with much 
effort. We have, so to say, in this sense, not got ammuni- 
tion enough. 

Second Peasant. You can't get blood out of a stone. 

Third Peasant. We'd be glad with all our hearts, but 
we have swept even this together, as you might say, with 
a broom. 

[Vasily Leoniditch and Petristchef appear in the 
doorway both smoking cigarettes. 

Vasily Leoniditch. I have told you already I'll do my 
best, so, of course, I will do all that is possible! Eh, 
what? 

Petristchef. You must just understand that if you do 
not get it, the devil only knows what a mess we shall be 
in! 

Vasily Leoniditch. But I've already said I'll do my best, 
and so I will. Eh, what? 

Petristchef. Nothing. I only say, get some at any cost; 
I will wait. 

[Exit into Vasily Leoniditch's room, closing door. 

Vasily Leoniditch (waving his arm). It's a deuce of a 
go! 

[The Peasants bow. 

Vasily Leoniditch (looking at Porter, to Theodore 
Ivanitch). Why don't you attend to this fellow from 
Bourdier? He hasn't come to take lodgings with us, has 
he? Just look, he is asleep! Eh, what? 

Theodore Ivdnitch. The note he brought has been sent 
in, and he has been told to wait until Anna Pavlovna 
comes down. 

Vasily Leoniditch (looks at Peasants and notices the 
money). And what is this? Money? For whom? Is it 
for us? (To Theodore Ivanitch.) Who are they? 

Theodore Ivdnitch. They are peasants from Koursk. 
They are buying land. 

Vasily Leoniditch. Has it been sold them? 

Theodore Ivdnitch. No, they have not yet come to any 
agreement. They are too stingy? 



164 FRUITS OF CULTURE 

Vastly Leoniditch. Eh? Well, we must try and per- 
suade them. {To the Peasants.) Here, I say, are you 
buying land? Eh? 

First Peasant. That's just it. We have made an offer- 
ing as how we should like to acquire the possession of the 
land. 

Vastly Leoniditch. Then you should not be so stingy, 
you know. Just let me tell you how necessary land is to 
peasants! Eh, what? It's very necessary, isn't it? 

First Peasant. That's just it. The land appears as the 
very first and foremost necessity to a peasant. That's 
just it. 

Vastly Leoniditch. Then why be so stingy? Just you 
think what land is! Why, one can sow wheat on it in 
rows! I tell you, you could get eighty bushels of wheat, 
at a rouble and a half a bushel — that would be 120 roubles. 
Eh, what? Or else mint! I tell you, you could collar 400 
roubles off an acre by sowing mint! 

First Peasant. That's just it. All sorts of producks one 
could put into action if one had the right understanding. 

Vastly Leoniditch. Mint! Decidedly mint! I have 
learnt about it, you know. It's all printed in books. I 
can show them you. Eh, what? 

First Peasant. That's just it, all concerns are clearer 
to you through your books. That's learnedness, of course. 

Vastly Leoniditch. Then pay up and don't be stingy! 
(To Theodore Ivanitch.) Where's papa? 

Theodore Ivanitch. He gave orders not to be disturbed 
just now. 

Vastly Leoniditch. Oh, I suppose he's consulting a spirit 
whether to sell the land or not? Eh, what? 

Theodore Ivanitch. I can't say. All I know is that he 
went away undecided about it. 

Vastly Leoniditch. What d'you think, Theodore Ivan- 
itch, is he flush of cash? Eh, what? 

Theodore Ivanitch. I don't know. I hardly think so. 
But what does it matter to you? You drew a good sum 
not more than a week ago. 

Vastly Leoniditch. But didn't I pay for those dogs? 
And now, you know, there's our new Society, and Petrist- 









FRUITS OF CULTURE 165 

chef has been chosen, and I had borrowed money from 
Petristchef and must pay the subscription both for him and 
for myself. Eh, what? 

Theodore r Ivdnitch. And what is this new Society? A 
Cycling Club? 

Vastly Leoniditch. No. Just let me tell you. It is 
quite a new Society. It is a very serious Society, you know. 
And who do you think is President? Eh, what? 

Theodore Ivdnitch. What's the object of this new Soci- 
ety? 

Vastly Leoniditch. It is a "Society to Promote the 
Breeding of Pure-Bred Russian Hounds." Eh, what? And 
I'll tell you, they're having the first meeting and a lunch, 
to-day. And I've no money. I'll go to him and have a 
try! 

[Exit through study door. 

First Peasant {to Theodore Ivanitch). And who 
might he be, respected sir? 

Theodore Ivanitch {smiles). The young master. 

Third Peasant. The heir, so to say. Oh, Lord! {Puts 
away the money.) I'd better hide it meanwhile. 

First Peasant. And we were told he was in military ser- 
vice, in the cav'rely, for example. 

Theodore Ivanitch. No, as an only son he is exempt 
from military service. 

Third Peasant. Left for to keep his parents, so to say! 
That's right! 

Second Peasant {shaking his head). He's the right 
sort. He'll feed them finely! 

Third Peasant. Oh, Lord! 

[Enter Vasily Leoniditch, followed by Leonid 
Fyodoritch. 

Vasily Leoniditch. That's always the way. It's really 
surprising! First I'm asked why I have no occupation, 
and now when I have found a field and am occupied, when 
a Society with serious and noble aims has been founded, I 
can't even have 300 roubles to go on with! . . . 

Leonid Fyodoritch. I tell you I can't do it, and I can't! 
I haven't got it. 

Vasily Leoniditch. Why, you have just sold some land. 



166 FRUITS OF CULTURE 

Leonid Fyodoritch. In the first place I have not sold 
it! And above all, do leave me in peace! Weren't you 
told I was engaged? 

[Exit, slamming door. 

Theodore Ivdnitch. I told you this was not the right 
moment. 

Vasily Leoniditch. Well, I say! Here's a position to 
be in! I'll go and see mamma — that's my only hope. He's 
going crazy over his spiritualism and forgets everything 
else. 

[Goes upstairs. 

[Theodore Ivanitch takes newspaper and is just 
going to sit down, when Betsy and Marya Kon- 
stantinovna, followed by Gregory, come down 
the stairs. 

Betsy. Is the carriage ready? 

Gregory. Just coming to the door. 

Betsy {to Marya Konstantinovna). Come along, 
come along, I know it is he. 

Marya Konstantinovna. Which he? 

Betsy. You know very well whom I mean — Petristchef, 
of course. 

Marya Konstantinovna. But where is he? 

Betsy. Sitting in Vovo's room. You'll see! 

Marya Konstantinovna. And suppose it is not he? 
[The Peasants and Porter bow. 

Betsy (to Porter). You brought a dress from Bour- 
dier's? 

Porter. Yes, Miss. May I go? 

Betsy. Well, I don't know. Ask my mother. 

Porter. I don't know whose it is, Miss; I was ordered 
to bring it here and receive the money. 

Betsy. W T ell, then, wait. 

Marya Konstantinovna. Is it still that costume for the 
charade? 

Betsy. Yes, a charming costume. But mamma won't 
take it or pay for it. 

Marya Konstantinovna. But why not? 

Betsy. You'd better ask mamma. She doesn't grudge 
Vovo 500 roubles for his dogs, but 100 is too much for a 




FRUITS OF CULTURE 167 

dress. I can't act dressed like a scarecrow. (Pointing to 
Peasants.) And who are these? 

Gregory. Peasants who have come to buy some land 
or other. 

Betsy. And I thought they were the beaters. Are you 
not beaters? 

First Peasant. No, no, lady. We have come to see 
Leonid Fyodoritch about the signing into our possession 
of the title-deeds to some land. 

Betsy. Then how is it? Vovo was expecting some beat- 
ers who were to come to-day. Are you sure you are not 
the beaters? {The Peasants are silent.) How stupid they 
are! {Goes to Vasily Leoniditch's door.) Vovo? 
[Laughs. 

Mdrya Konstantinovna. But we met him just now up- 
stairs! 

Betsy. Why need you remember that? Vovo, are you 
there? 

[Petristchef enters. 

Petristchej. Vovo is not here, but I am prepared to 

fulfil on his behalf anything that may be required. How 

do you do? How do you do, Marya Konstantinovna? 

[Shakes hands long and violently with Betsy, and 

then with Marya Konstantinovna. 

Second Peasant. See, it's as if he were pumping water! 

Betsy. You can't replace him, — still you're better than 
nobody. {Laughs.) What are these affairs of }'ours w T itl 
Vovo? 

Petristchej. What affairs? Our affairs are fie-nancial. 
that is, our business is fie! It's also nancial, and besides it 
is financial. 

Betsy. What does nancial mean? 

Petristchef. What a question! It means nothing, that'* 
just the point. 

Betsy. No, no, you have missed fire. 
[Laughs. 

Petristchej. One can't always hit the mark, you know. 
It's something like a lottery. Blanks and blanks again, 
and at last you win! 

[Theodore Ivanitch goes into the study. 



168 FRUITS OF CULTURE 

Betsy. Well, this was blank then; but tell me, were you 
at the Mergasofs' last night? 

Petristchef. Not exactly at the Mere Gasof's, but rather 
at the Pere Gasof's, or better still, at the Fits Gasof's. 

Betsy. You can't do without puns. It's an illness. 
And were the Gypsies there? x 
[Laughs. 

Petristchef (sings). "On their aprons silken threads, 
little birds with golden heads!" . . . 

Betsy. Happy mortals! And we were yawning at 
Fofo's. 

Petristchef (continues to sing). "And she promised 
and she swore, she would ope' her . . . her . . . her ..." 
how does it go on, Marya Konstantinovna? 

Mdrya Konstantinovna. "Closet door." 

Petristchef. How? What? How, Marya Konstanti- 
novna? 

Betsy. Cessez y vous devenez impossible! 2 

Petristchef. J'ai cesse, j'ai bebe, j'ai dede . . . 3 

Betsy. I see the only way to rid ourselves of your wit 
is to make you sing! Let us go into Vovo's room, his 
guitar is there. Come, Marya Konstantinovna, come! 

[Exeunt Betsy, Marya Konstantinovna, and 
Petristchef. 

First Peasant. Who be they? 

Gregory. One is our young lady, the other is a girl who 
teaches her music. 

First Peasant. Administrates learning, so to say. And 
ain't she smart? A reg'lar picture! 

Second Peasant. Why don't they marry her? She is old 
enough, I should say. 

Gregory. Do you think it's the same as among you 
peasants, — marry at fifteen? 

First Peasant. And that man, for example, is he also in 
the musitional line? 

Gregory (mimicking him). "Musitional," indeedl You 
don't understand anything! 

1 The Gypsy choirs are very popular in Moscow. 

2 Betsy. Cease! You are becoming quite unbearable! 

3 Petristchef '. I have C said (ceased), B said, and D said. 



FRUITS OF CULTURE 169 

First Peasant. That's just so. And stupidity, one 
might say, is our ignorance. 
Third Peasant. Oh, Lord! 

[Gypsy songs and guitar accompaniment are heard 

from Vasily Leoniditch's room. 
[Enter Simon, followed by Tanya, who watches the 
meeting between father and son. 
Gregory {to Simon). What do you want? 
Simon. I have been to Mr. Kaptchitch. 
Gregory. Well, and what's the answer? 
Simon. He sent word he couldn't possibly come to- 
night. 

Gregory. All right, I'll let them know. 

[Exit. 
Simon {to his father). How d'you do, father! My 
respects to Daddy Efim and Daddy Mitry! How are all 
at home? 
Second Peasant. Very well, Simon. 
First Peasant. How d'you do, lad? 
Third Peasant. How d'you do, sonny? 
Simon {smiles). Well, come along, father, and have 
some tea. 

Second Peasant. Wait till we've finished our business. 
Don't you see we are not ready yet? 

Simon. Well, I'll wait for you by the porch. 

[Wishes to go away. 
Tanya {running after him). I say, why didn't you tell 
him anything? 

Simon. How could I before all those people? Give me 
time, I'll tell him over our tea. 
[Exit. 

[Theodore Ivanitch enters and sits down by the 
window. 
First Peasant. Respected sir, how's our business pro- 
ceeding? 

Theodore Ivanitch. Wait a bit, he'll be out presently, 
he's just finishing. 

Tanya {to Theodore Ivanitch). And how do you 
know, Theodore Ivanitch, he is finishing? 



170 FRUITS OF CULTURE 

Theodore Ivdnitch. I know that when he has finished 
questioning, he reads the question and answer aloud. 

Tanya. Can one really talk with spirits by means of a 
saucer? 

Theodore Ivdnitch. It seems so. 

Tanya. But supposing they tell him to sign, will he 
sign? 

Theodore Ivdnitch. Of course he will. 

Tanya. But they do not speak with words? 

Theodore Ivdnitch. Oh, yes. By means of the alpha- 
bet. He notices at which letter the saucer stops. 

Tanya. Yes, but at a si-ance? . . . 
[Enter Leonid Fyodoritch. 

Leonid Fyodoritch. Well, friends, I can't do it! I 
should be very glad to, but it is quite impossible. If it 
were for ready money it would be a different matter. 

First Peasant. That's just so. What more could any 
one desire? But the people are so inpennycuous — it is 
quite impossible! 

Leonid Fyodoritch. Well, I can't do it, I really can't. 
Here is your document; I can't sign it. 

Third Peasant. Show some pity, master; be merciful! 

Second Peasant. How can you act so? It is doing us 
a wrong. 

Leonid Fyodoritch. Nothing wrong about it, friends. I 
offered it you in summer, but then you did not agree; and 
now I can't agree to it. 

Third Peasant. Master, be merciful! How are we to 
get along? We have so little land. We'll say nothing 
about the cattle; a hen, let's say, there's no room to let a 
hen run about. 

[Leonid Fyodoritch goes up to the door and stops. 
Enter, descending the staircase, Anna Pavlovna 
and Doctor, followed by Vastly Leoniditch, 
who is in a merry and playful mood and is put- 
ting some bank-notes into his purse. 

Anna Pavlovna (tightly laced, and wearing a bonnet). 
Then I am to take it? 

Doctor. If the symptoms recur you must certainly take 
it, but above all, you must behave better. How can you 



FRUITS OF CULTURE 171 

expect thick syrup to pass through a thin little hair tube, 
especially when we squeeze the tube? It's impossible; and 
so it is with the biliary duct. It's simple enough. 

Anna Pdvlovna. All right, all right! 

Doctor. Yes. "All right, all right," and you go on in 
the same old way. .It won't do, madam — it won't do. Well, 
good-bye! 

Anna Pdvlovna. No, not good-bye, only au revoir! For 
I still expect you to-night. I shall not be able to make up 
my mind without you. 

Doctor. All right, if I have time I'll pop in. 
[Exit. 

Anna Pdvlovna {noticing the Peasants). What's this? 
What? What people are these? 
[Peasants bow. 

Theodore Ivdnitch. These are peasants from Koursk, 
come to see Leonid Fyodoritch about the sale of some 
land. 

Anna Pdvlovna. I see they are peasants, but who let 
them in? 

Theodore Ivdnitch. Leonid Fyodoritch gave the order. 
He has just been speaking to them about the sale of the 
land. 

Anna Pdvlovna. What sale? There is no need to sell 
any. But above all, how can one let in people from the 
street into the house? One can't let people in from the 
street! One can't let people into the house who have 
spent the night heaven knows where! . . . {Getting more 
and more excited.) I daresay every fold of their clothes is 
full of microbes — of scarlet-fever microbes, of smallpox 
microbes, of diphtheria microbes! Why, they are from 
Koursk Government, where there is an epidemic of diph- 
theria . . . Doctor! Doctor! Call the doctor back! 

[Leonid Fyodoritch goes into his room and shuts 
the door. Gregory goes to recall the Doctor. 

Vastly Leoniditch {smokes at the Peasants). Never 
mind, mamma; if you like I'll fumigate them so that all 
the microbes will go to pot! Eh, what? 

[Anna Pavlovna remains severely silent, awaiting 
the Doctor's return. 



172 FRUITS OF CULTURE 

Vastly Leoniditch {to Peasants). And do you fatten 
pigs? There's a first-rate business! 

First Peasant. That's just so. We do go in for the 
pig-fattening line now and then. 

Vastly Leoniditch. This kind? . . . 
[Grunts like a pig. 

Anna Pdvlovna. Vovo, Vovo, leave off! 

Vastly Leoniditch. Isn't it like? Eh, what? 

First Peasant. That's just so. It's very resemblant. 

Anna Pdvlovna. Vovo, leave off, I tell you! 

Second Peasant. What's it all about? 

Third Peasant. I said, we'd better go to some lodging 
meanwhile! 

[Enter Doctor and Gregory. 

Doctor. What's the matter? What's happened? 

Anna Pdvlovna. Why, you're always saying I must not' 
get excited. Now, how is it possible to keep calm? I 
do not see my own sister for two months, and am careful 
about any doubtful visitor — and here are people frorri 
Koursk, straight from Koursk, where there is an epidemic 
of diphtheria, right in my house! 

Doctor. These good fellows you mean, I suppose? 

Anna Pdvlovna. Of course. Straight from a diphtheric 
place! 

Doctor. Well, of course, if they come from an infected 
place it is rash; but still there is no reason to excite your- 
self so much about it. 

Anna Pdvlovna. But don't you yourself advise careful- 
ness? 

Doctor. Of course, of course. Still, why excite your- 
self? 

Anna Pdvlovna. How can I help it? Now we shall 
have to have the house completely disinfected. 

Doctor. Oh, no! Why completely? That would cost 
300 roubles or more. I'll arrange it cheaply and well for 
you. Take, to a large bottle of water . . . 

Anna Pdvlovna. Boiled? 

Doctor. It's all the same. Boiled would be better. To 
one bottle of water take a tablespoon of salicylic acid, and 
have everything they have come in contact with washed 




FRUITS OF CULTURE 173 

with the solution. As to the fellows themselves, they 
must be off, of course. That's all. Then you're quite 
safe. And it would do no harm to sprinkle some of 
the same solution through a spray — two or three tum- 
blers — you'll see how well it will act. No danger what- 
ever. 

Anna Pdvlovna. Tanya! Where is Tanya? 
[Enter Tanya. 

Tanya. Did you call, M'm? 

Anna Pdvlovna. You know that big bottle in my dress- 
ing-room? 

Tanya. Out of which we sprinkled the laundress yester- 
day? 

Anna Pdvlovna. Well, of course! What other bottle 
could I mean? Well, then, take that bottle and first wash 
with soap the place where they have been standing, and 
then with . . . 

Tanya. Yes, M'm; I know how. 

Anna Pdvlovna. And then take the spray . . . How- 
ever, I had better do that myself when I get back. 

Doctor. Well, then, do so, and don't be afraid! Well, 
wu revoir till this evening. 
[Exit. 

Anna Pdvlovna. And they must be off! Not a trace 
of them must remain! Get out, get out! Go — what are 
you looking at? 

First Peasant. That's just so. It's because of our stu- 
pidity, as we were instructed . . . 

Gregory (pushes the Peasants out). There, there; be 
off! 

Second Peasant. Let me have my handkerchief back! 
[The handkerchief in which the presents were 
wrapped. 

Third Peasant. Oh, Lord, oh, Lord! didn't I say — some 
lodging-house meanwhile! 

[Gregory pushes him out. Exeunt Peasants. 

Porter (who has repeatedly tried to say something). 
Will there be any answer? 

Anna Pdvlovna. Ah, from Bourdier? (Excitedly.) 
None! None! You can take it back. I told her I never 



174 FRUITS OF CULTURE 

ordered such a costume, and I will not allow my daughter 
to wear it! 

Porter. I know nothing about it. I was sent . . . 

Anna Pdvlovna. Go, go, take it back! I will call my- 
self about it! 

Vastly Leoniditch {solemnly). Sir Messenger from 
Bourdier, depart! 

Porter. I might have been told that long ago. I have 
sat here nearly five hours! 

Vastly Leoniditch. Ambassador from Bourdier, be? 
gone! 

Anna Pdvlovna. Cease, please! 
[Exit Porter. 

Anna Pdvlovna. Betsy! Where is she? I always have 
to wait for her. 

Vastly Leoniditch {shouting at the top of his voice), 
Betsy! Petristchef! Come quick, quick, quick! Eh? 
What? 

[Enter Petristchef, Betsy, and Marya Konstan- 
tinovna. 

Anna Pdvlovna. You always keep one waiting! 

Betsy. On the contrary, I was waiting for you! 

[Petristchef bows with his head only, then kisses 
Anna Pavlovna's hand. 

Anna Pdvlovna. How d'you do! {To Betsy.) You al- 
ways have an answer ready! 

Betsy. If you are upset, mamma, I had better not go. 

Anna Pdvlovna. Are we going or not? 

Betsy. Well, let us go; it can't be helped. 

Anna Pdvlovna. Did you see the man from Bourdier? 

Betsy. Yes, and I was very glad. I ordered the cos- 
tume, and am going to wear it when it is paid for. 

Anna Pdvlovna. I am not going to pay for a costume 
that is indecent! 

Betsy. Why has it become indecent? First it was de- 
cent, and now you have a fit of prudery. 

Anna Pdvlovna. Not prudery at all! If the bodice 
were completely altered, then it would do. 

Betsy. Mamma, that is quite impossible. 

Anna Pdvlovna. Well, get dressed. 




FRUITS OF CULTURE 175 

[They sit down. Gregory puts on their over-shoes 
for them. 

Vastly Leoniditch. Marya Konstantinovna, do you 
notice a vacuum in the hall? 

Mdrya Konstantinovna. What is it? 
[Laughs in anticipation. 

Vasily Leoniditch. Bourdier's man has gone! Eh, 
what? Good, eh? 

[Laughs loudly. 

Anna Pdvlovna. Well, let us go. {Goes out of the door, 
but returns at once.) Tanya! 

Tanya. Yes, M'm? 

Anna Pdvlovna. Don't let Frisk catch cold while I am 
away. If she wants to be let out, put on her little yellow 
cloak. She is not quite well to-day. 

Tanya. Yes, M'm. 

[Exeunt Anna Pavlovna, Betsy, and Gregory. 

Petristchef. Well, have you got it? 

Vasily Leoniditch. Not without trouble, I can tell you! 
First I rushed at the gov'nor; he began to bellow and 
turned me out. Off to the mater — I got it out of her. It's 
here! (Slaps his breast pocket.) If once I make up my 
mind, there's no getting away from me. I have a deadly 
grip! Eh, what? And d'you know, my wolf-hounds are 
coming to-day. 

[Petristchef and Vasily Leoniditch put on their 
outdoor things and go out. Tanya follows. 

Theodore Ivdnitch (alone). Yes, nothing but unpleas- 
antness. How is it they can't live in peace? But one 
must say the new generation are not — the thing. And 
as to the women's dominion! . . . Why, Leonid Fyodoritch 
just now was going to put in a word, but seeing what a 
frenzy she was in — slammed the door behind him. He 
is a wonderfully kind-hearted man. Yes, wonderfully kind. 
What's this? Here's Tanya bringing them back again! 

Tanya. Come in, come in, grand-dads, never mind! 
[Enter Tanya and the Peasants. 

Theodore Ivdnitch. Why have you brought them 
back? 

Tanya. Well, Theodore Ivanitch, we must do something 



176 FRUITS OF CULTURE 

about their business. I shall have to wash the place any- 
how. 

Theodore Ivdnitch. But the business will not come off, 
I see that already. 

First Peasant. How could we best put our affair into 
action, respected sir? Your reverence might take a little 
trouble over it, and we should give you full thankings 
from the Commune for your trouble. 

Third Peasant. Do try, honey! We can't live! We 
have so little land. Talk of cattle — why, we have no room 
to keep a hen ! 

[They bow. 

Theodore Ivdnitch. I am sorry for you, friends, but I 
can't think of any way to help you. I understand your 
case very well, but he has refused. So what can one do? 
Besides, the lady is also against it. Well, give me your 
papers — I'll try and see what I can do, but I hardly hope 
to succeed. 
[Exit. 
[Tanya and the three Peasants sigh. 

Tanya. But tell me, grand-dads, what is it that is 
wanted? 

First Peasant. Why, only that he should put his sig- 
nature to our document. 

Tanya. That the master should sign? Is that all? 

First Peasant. Yes, only lay his signature on the deed 
and take the money, and there would be an end of the 
matter. 

Third Peasant. He only has to write and sign, as the 
peasants, let's say, desire, so, let's say, I also desire. That's 
the whole affair — if he'd only take it and sign it, it's all 
done. 

Tanya {considering). He need only sign the paper and 
it's done? 

First Peasant. That's just so. The whole matter is in 
dependence on that, and nothing else. Let him sign, and 
we ask no more. 

Tanya. Just wait and see what Theodore Ivanitch will 
say. If he cannot persuade the master, I'll try something. 
First Peasant. Get round him, will you? 



FRUITS OF CULTURE 177 

Tanya. I'll try. 

Third Peasant. Ay, the lass is going to bestir herself. 
Only get the thing settled, and the Commune will bind 
itself to keep you all your life. See there, now! 

First Peasant. If the affair can be put into action, truly 
we might put her in a gold frame. 

Second Peasant. That goes without saying! 

Tanya. I can't promise for certain, but as the saying is: 
"An attempt is no sin, if you try . . . " 

First Peasant. "You may win?' That's just so. 
[Enter Theodore Ivanitch. 

Theodore Ivanitch. No, friends, it's no go! He has not 
done it, and he won't do it. Here, take your document. 
You may go. 

First Peasant {gives Tanya the paper). Then it's on 
you we pin all our reliance, for example. 

Tanya. Yes, yes! You go into the street, and I'll run 
out to you in a minute and have a word with you. 
[Exeunt Peasants. 

Tanya. Theodore Ivanitch, dear Theodore Ivanitch, ask 
the master to come out and speak to me for a moment. 
I have something to say to him. 

Theodore Ivanitch. What next? 

Tanya. I must, Theodore Ivanitch. Ask him, do; 
there's nothing wrong about it, on my sacred word. 

Theodore Ivanitch. But what do you want with him? 

Tanya. That's a little secret. I will tell you later on, 
only ask him. 

Theodore Ivanitch {smiling). I can't think what you 
are up to! All right, I'll go and ask him. 
[Exit. 

Tanya. I'll do it! Didn't he say himself that there is 
that power in Simon? And I know how to manage. No 
one found me out that time, and now I'll teach Simon 
what to do. If it doesn't succeed it's no great matter. 
After all it's not a sin. 

[Enter Leonid Fyodoritch, followed by Theo- 
dore Ivanitch. 

Leonid Fyodoritch {smiling). Is this the petitioner? 
Well, what is your business? 



178 FRUITS OF CULTURE 

Tanya. It's a little secret, Leonid Fyodoritch; let me 
tell it you alone. 

Leonid Fyodoritch. What is it? Theodore, leave us 
for a minute. 

[Exit Theodore Ivanitch. 

Tanya. As I have grown up and lived in your house, 
Leonid Fyodoritch, and as I am very grateful to you for 
everything, I shall open my heart to you as to a father, 
Simon, who is living in your house, wants to marry me. 

Leonid Fyodoritch. So that's it! 

Tanya. I open my heart to you as to a father! I have 
no one to advise me, being an orphan. 

Leonid Fyodoritch. Well, and why not? He seems a 
nice lad. 

Tanya. Yes, that's true. He would be all right; there 
is only one thing I have my doubts about. It's something 
about him that I have noticed and can't make out . . . 
perhaps it is something bad. 

Leonid Fyodoritch. What is it? Does he drink? 

Tanya. God forbid! But since I know that there is 
such a thing as spiritalism . . . 

Leonid Fyodoritch. Ah, you know that? 

Tanya. Of course! I understand it very well. Some, 
of course, through ignorance, don't understand it. 

Leonid Fyodoritch. Well, what then? 

Tanya. I am very much afraid for Simon. It does 
happen to him. 

Leonid Fyodoritch. What happens to him? 

Tanya. Something of a kind like spiritalism. You ask 
any of the servants. As soon as he gets drowsy at the 
table, the table begins to tremble, and creak like that: 
tuke, . . . tuke! All the servants have heard it. 

Leonid Fyodoritch. Why, it's the very thing I was 
saying to Sergey Ivanitch this morning! Yes? . . . 

Tanya. Or else . . . when was it? . . . Oh. yes, last 
Wednesday. We sat down to dinner, and the spoon just 
jumps into his hand of itself! 

Leonid Fyodoritch. Ah, that is interesting! Jumps into 
his hand? When he was drowsing? 

Tanya. That I didn't notice. I think he was, though. 



FRUITS OF CULTURE 179 

Leonid Fyodoritch. Yes? . . . 

Tanya. And that's what I'm afraid of, and what I 
wanted to ask you about. May not some harm come of it? 
To live one's life together, and him having such a thing in 
him! 

Leonid Fyodoritch {smiling). No, you need not be 
afraid, there is nothing bad in that. It only proves him 
to be a medium — simply a medium. I knew him to be a 
medium before this. 

Tanya. So that's what it is! And I was afraid! 

Leonid Fyodoritch. No, there's nothing to be afraid of. 
{Aside.) That's capital! Kaptchitch can't come, so we 
will test him to-night. . . . {To Tanya.) No, my dear, 
don't be afraid, he will be a good husband and . . . that 
is only a kind of special power, and every one has it, only 
in some it is weaker and in others stronger. 

Tanya. Thank you, sir. Now I shan't think any more 
about it; but I was so frightened. . . . What a thing it 
is, our want of education! 

Leonid Fyodoritch. No, no, don't be frightened . . . 
Theodore! 

[Enter Theodore Ivanitch. 

Leonid Fyodoritch. I am going out now. Get every- 
thing ready for to-night's seance. 

Theodore Ivanitch. But Mr. Kaptchitch is not coming. 

Leonid Fyodoritch. That does not matter. {Puts on 
overcoat.) We shall have a trial seance with our own 
medium. 

[Exit. Theodore Ivanitch goes out with him.] 

Tanya {alone). He believes it! He believes it! 
{Shrieks and jumps with joy.) He really believes it! Isn't 
it wonderful! {Shrieks.) Now I'll do it, if only Simon has 
pluck for it! 

[Theodore Ivanitch returns. 

Theodore Ivdnitch. Well, have you told him your 
secret? 

Tdnya. I'll tell you, too, only later on. . . . But I have 
a favor to ask of you, too, Theodore Ivanitch. 

Theodore Ivdnitch. Yes? What is it? 

Tdnya {shyly). You have been a second father to me, 
and I will open my heart before you as before God. 



i go FRUITS OF CULTURE 

Theodore Ivdnitch. Don't beat about the bush, but come 
straight to the point. 

Tanya. The point is . . . well, the point is, that Simon 
wants to marry me. 

Theodore Ivdnitch. Is that it? I thought I noticed . . . 

Tanya. Well, why should I hide it? I am an orphan, 
and you know yourself how matters are in these town 
establishments. Every one comes bothering; there's that 
Gregory Mihaylitch, for instance, he gives me no peace. 
And also that other one . . . you know. They think I 
have no soul, and am only here for their amusement. 

Theodore Ivdnitch. Good girl, that's right! Well, what 
then? 

Tanya. W T ell, Simon wrote to his father; and he, his 
father, sees me to-day, and says: "He's spoilt" — he means 
his son. Theodore Ivanitch (bows), take the place of a 
father to me, speak to the old man, — to Simon's father! I 
could take them into the kitchen, and you might come 
in and speak to the old man! 

Theodore Ivdnitch (smiling) . Then I am to turn match- 
maker — am I? Well, I can do that. 

Tanya. Theodore Ivanitch, dearest, be a father to me, 
and I'll pray for you all my life long. 

Theodore Ivdnitch. All right, all right, I'll come later 
on. Haven't I promised? 

[Takes up newspaper. 

Tanya. You are a second father to me! 

Theodore Ivdnitch. All right, all right. 

Tanya. Then I'll rely on you. 
[Exit. 

Theodore Ivdnitch (alone, shaking his head). A good 
affectionate girl. To think that so many like her perish! 
Get but once into trouble and she'll go from hand to hand 
until she sinks into the mire, and can never be found again! 
There was that dear little Nataly. She, too, was a good 
girl, reared and cared for by a mother. (Takes up paper.) 
Well, let's see what tricks Ferdinand is up to in Bulgaria. 

CURTAIN 



ACT II 

Evening of the same day. The scene represents the interior 
of the servants' kitchen. The Peasants have taken 
off their outer garments and sit drinking tea at the 
table, and perspiring. Theodore IvAnitch is smok- 
ing a cigar at the other side of the stage. The dis- 
charged Cook is lying on the brick oven, and is unseen 
during the early part of the scene. 
Theodore Ivdnitch. My advice is, don't hinder him! If 
it's his wish and hers, in Heaven's name, let him do it. 
She is a good, honest girl. Never mind her being a bit 
dressy; she can't help that, living in town: she is a good 
girl all the same. 

Second Peasant. Well, of course, if it is his wish, let him! 
He'll have to live with her, not me. But she's certainly 
uncommon spruce. How's one to take her into one's hut? 
Why, she'll not let her mother-in-law so much as pat her 
on the head. 

Theodore Ivdnitch. That does not depend on the spruce- 
ness, but on character. If her nature is good, she's sure 
to be docile and respectful. 

Second Peasant. Ah, well, we'll have her if the lad's 
bent on having her. After all, it's a bad job to live with 
one as one don't care for. I'll consult my missus, and then 
may Heaven bless them! 

Theodore Ivdnitch. Then let's shake hands on it! 
Second Peasant. Well, it seems it will have to come 
off. 

First Peasant. Eh, Zachary! fortune's a-smiling on you! 
You've come to accomplish a piece of business, and just 
see what a duchess of a daughter-in-law you've obtained. 
All that's left to be done is to have a drink on it, and then 
it will be all in order. 

181 



1S2 FRUITS OF CULTURE 

Theodore Ivdnitch. That's not at all necessary. 
[An awkward silence. 

Theodore Ivdnitch. I know something of your way of 
life, too, you know. I am even thinking of purchasing a 
bit of land, building a cottage, and working on the land 
myself somewhere; maybe in your neighborhood. 

Second Peasant. A very good thing, too. 

First Peasant. That's just it. When one has got the 
money one can get all kinds of pleasure in the country. 

Third Peasant. Say no more about it! Country life, 
let's say, is freer in every way, not like the town! 

Theodore Ivdnitch. There now, would you let me join 
your Commune if I settled among you? 

Second Peasant. Why not? If you stand drink for the 
Elders, they'll accept you soon enough! 

First Peasant. And if you open a public-house, for 
example, or an inn, why, you'd have such a life you'd 
never need to die! You might live like a king, and no 
mistake. 

Theodore Ivdnitch. Well, we'll see. I should certainly 
like to have a few quiet years in my old age. Though my 
life here is good enough, and I should be sorry to leave. 
Leonid Fyodoritch is an exceedingly kind-hearted man. 

First Peasant. That's just it. But how about our busi- 
ness? Is it possible that he is going to leave it without 
any termination? 

Theodore Ivdnitch. He'd do it willingly. 

Second Peasant. It seems he's afraid of his wife. 

Theodore Ivdnitch. It's not that he's afraid, but they 
don't hit things off together. 

Third Peasant. But you should try, father! How are 
we to live else? We've so little land . . . 

Theodore Ivdnitch. We'll see what comes of Tanya's 
attempt. She's taken the business into her hands now! 

Third Peasant (takes a sip of tea). Father, be merciful. 
We've so little land. A hen, let's say, we've no room for 
a hen, let alone the cattle. 

Theodore Ivdnitch. If the business depended on me. 
. . . {To Second Peasant.) Well, friend, so we've done 
our bit of match-making! It's agreed then about Tanya? 



FRUITS OF CULTURE 183 

Second Peasant. I've given my word, and I'll not go 
back on it without a good reason. If only our business 
succeeds! 

[Enter Servants' Cook, who looks up at the oven, 
makes a sign, and then begins to speak animatedly 
to Theodore Ivanitch. 

Servants 9 Cook. Just now Simon was called upstairs from 
the front kitchen! The master and that other bald-headed 
one who calls up spirits with him, ordered him to sit down 
and take the place of Kaptchitch ! 

Theodore Ivanitch. You don't say so! 

Servants 7 Cook. Yes, Jacob told Tanya. 

Theodore Ivanitch. Extraordinary! 
[Enter Coachman. 

Theodore Ivanitch. What do you want? 

Coachman {to Theodore Ivanitch). You may just 
tell them I never agreed to live with a lot of dogs! Let any 
one who likes do it, but I will never agree to live among 
dogs! 

Theodore Ivanitch. What dogs? 

Coachman. Three dogs have been sent into our room 
by Vasily Leoniditch ! They've messed it all over. They're 
whining, and if one comes near them they bite — the devils! 
They'd tear you to pieces if you didn't mind. I've a good 
mind to take a club and smash their legs for them! 

Theodore Ivanitch. But when did they come? 

Coachman. Why, to-day, from the Dog Show; the devil 
knows what kind they are, but they're an expensive sort. 
Are we or the dogs to live in the coachmen's quarters? 
You just go and ask! 

Theodore Ivanitch. Yes, that will never do. I'll go 
and ask about it. 

Coachman. They'd better be brought here to Loukerya. 

Servants' Ccok {angrily). People have to eat here, and 
you'd like to lock dogs in here! As it is . . . 

Coachman. And I've got the liveries, and the sledge- 
covers and the harness there, and they expect things kept 
clean! Perhaps the porter's lodge might do. 

Theodore Ivanitch. I must ask Vasily Leoniditch. 

Coachman {angrily). He'd better hang the brutes 



184 FRUITS OF CULTURE 

round his neck and lug them about with him! But no fear: 
he'd rather ride on horseback himself. It's he as spoilt 
Beauty without rhyme or reason. That was a horse! . . . 
Oh, dear! what a life! 

[Exit, slamming door. 

Theodore Ivdnitch. That's not right! Certainly not 
right! (To Peasants.) Well, then, it's time we were say- 
ing good-bye, friends. 

Peasants. Good-bye ! 

[Exit Theodore Ivanitch. 

[As soon as he is gone a sound of groaning is heard 
from the top of the oven. 

Second Peasant. He's sleek, that one; looks like a gen- 
eral. 

Servants 9 Cook. Rather! Why he has a room all to 
himself; he gets his washing, his tea and sugar, and food 
from the master's table. 

Discharged Cook (on the oven). Why shouldn't the 
old beggar live well? He's lined his pockets all right! 

Second Peasant. Who's that up there, on the oven? 

Servants 9 Cook. Oh, it's only a man. 
[Silence. 

First Peasant. Well, and you, too, as I noticed a while 
since when you were supping, have capital food to eat. 

Servants' Cook. We can't complain. She's not mean 
about the food. We have wheat bread every Sunday, and 
fish when a holiday happens to be a fast-day, too, and 
those who like may eat meat. 

Second Peasant. And does any one tuck into flesh on 
fast-days? 

Servants 9 Cook. Oh, they nearly all do! Only the old 
coachman — not the one who was here just now but the 
old one — and Simon, and I and the housekeeper, fast — 
all the others eat meat. 

Second Peasant. And the master himself? 

Servants 7 Cook. Catch him! Why, I bet he's forgotten 
there is such a thing as fasting! 

Third Peasant. Oh, Lord! 

First Peasant. That's the gentlefolks' way: they have 
got it all out of their books. 'Cos of their intelex! 



FRUITS OF CULTURE 185 

Third Peasant. Shouldn't wonder if they feed on wheat 
bread every day! 

Servants' Cook. Wheat bread, indeed! Much they think 
of wheat bread! You should see what food they eat. No 
end of different things! 

First Peasant. In course gentlefolks' food is of an airial 
kind. 

Servants 9 Cook. Airial, of course, but all the same 
they're good at stuffing themselves, they are! 

First Peasant. Have healthy appekites, so to say. 

Servants' Cook. 'Cos they always rinse it down! All 
with sweet wines, and spirits, and fizzy liquors. They 
have a different one to suit every kind of food. They 
eat and rinse it down, and eat and rinse it down, they 
do. 

First Peasant. And so the food's floated down in pro- 
portion, so to say. 

Servants' Cook. Ah, yes, they are good at stuffing! It's 
awful! You see, it's not just sitting down, eating, then 
saying grace and going away — they're always at it! 

Second Peasant. Like pigs with their feet in the trough! 
[Peasants laugh. 

Servants' Cook. As soon as, by God's grace, they have 
opened their eyes, the samovar is brought in — tea, coffee, 
chocolate. Hardly is the second samovar emptied, a third 
has to be set. Then lunch, then dinner, then again coffee. 
They've hardly left off, then comes tea, and all sorts of 
tit-bits and sweetmeats — there's never an end to it! They 
even lie in bed and eat! 

Third Peasant. There now; that's good. 
[Laughs. 

First and Second Peasants. What are you about? 

Third Peasant. If I could only live a single day like 
that! 

Second Peasant. But when do they do their work? 

Servants' Cook. Work indeed! What is their work? 
Cards and piano — that's all their work. The young lady 
used to sit down to the piano as soon as she opened her 
eyes, and off she'd go! And that other one who lives here, 
the teacher, stands and waits. "When will the piano be 



186 FRUITS OF CULTURE 

free?" When one has finished, off rattles the other, and 
sometimes they'd put two pianos near one another and four 
of 'em would bust out at once. Bust out in such a man- 
ner, you could hear 'em down here! 

Third Peasant. Gh, Lord! 

Servants' Cook. Well, and that's all the work they do! 
Piano or cards! As soon as they have met together — 
cards, wine, smoking, and so on, all night long. And as- 
soon as they are up: eating again! 
[Enter Simon. 

Simon. Hope you're enjoying your tea! 

First Peasant. Come and join us. 

Simon (comes up to the table). Thank you kindly. 
[First Peasant pours out a cup of tea for him. 

Second Peasant. Where have you been? 

Simon. Upstairs. 

Second Peasant. Well, and what was being done there? 

Simon. Why, I couldn't make it out at all! I don't 
know how to explain it. 

Second Peasant. But what was it? 

Simon. I can't explain it. They have been trying some 
kind of strength in me. I can't make it out. Tanya says, 
"Do it, and we'll get the land for our peasants; he'll sell 
it them." 

Second Peasant. But how is she going to manage it? 

Simon. I can't make it out, and she won't say. She 
says, "Do as I tell you," and that's all. 

Second Peasant. But what is it you have to do? 

Simon. Nothing just now. They made me sit down, 
put out the lights and told me to sleep. And Tanya had 
hidden herself there. They didn't see her, but I did. 

Second Peasant. Why? What for? 

Simon. The Lord only knows — I can't make it out. 

First Peasant. Naturally, it is for the distraction of 
time. 

Second Peasant. Well, it's clear you and I can make 
nothing of it. You had better tell me whether you have 
taken all your wages yet. 

Simon. No, I've not drawn any. I have twenty-eight 
roubles to the good, I think. 




FRUITS OF CULTURE 187 

Second Peasant. That's all right! Well, if God grants 
that we get the land, I'll take you home, Simon. 

Simon. With all my heart! 

Second Peasant. You've got spoilt, I should say. You'll 
not want to plough? 

Simon. Plough? Only give me the chance! Plough or 
mow, — I'm game. Those are things one doesn't forget. 

First Peasant. But it don't seem very desirous after 
town life, for example? Eh! 

Simon. It's good enough for me. One can live in the 
country, too. 

First Peasant. And Daddy Mitry here is already on the 
look-out for your place; he's hankering after a life of 
luckshury! 

Simon. Eh, Daddy Mitry, you'd soon get sick of it. It 
seems easy enough when one looks at it, but there's a lot 
of running about that takes it out of one. 

Servants 9 Cook. You should see one of their balls, 
Daddy Mitry, then you would be surprised! 

Third Peasant. Why, do they eat all the time? 

Servants 7 Cook. My eye! You should have seen what 
we had here awhile ago. Theodore Ivanitch took me up- 
stairs and I peeped in. The ladies — awful! Dressed up! 
Dressed up, bless my heart, and all bare down to here, 
and their arms bare. 

Third Peasant. Oh, Lord! 

Second Peasant. Faugh! How beastly! 

First Peasant. I take it the climate allows of that sort 
of thing! 

Servants 9 Cook. Well, daddy, so I peeped in. Dear 
me, what it was like! All of 'em in their natural skins! 
Would you believe it: old women — our mistress, only 
think, she's a grandmother, and even she'd gone and bared 
her shoulders. 

Third Peasant. Oh, Lord! 

Servants 9 Cook. And what next? The music strikes up, 
and each man of 'em went up to his own, catches hold of 
her, and off they go twirling round and round! 

Second Peasant. The old women, too? 

Servants 9 Cook. Yes, the old ones, too. 



188 FRUITS OF CULTURE 

Simon. No, the old ones sit still. 

Servants' Cook. Get along, — I've seen it myself! 

Simon. No, they don't. 

Discharged Cook (in a hoarse voice, looking down from 
the oven). That's the Polka-Mazurka. You fools don't 
understand what dancing is. The way they dance . . . 

Servants' Cook. Shut up, you dancer! And keep quiet 
— there's some one coming. 

[Enter Gregory; old Cook hides hurriedly. 

Gregory (to Servants' Cook). Bring some sour cab- 
bage. 

Servants 9 Cook. I am only just up from the cellar, and 
now I must go down again! Who is it for? 

Gregory. For the young ladies. Be quick, and send it 
up with Simon. I can't wait! 

Servants 7 Cook. There now, they tuck into sweetmeats 
till they are full up, and then they crave for sour cab- 
bage! 

First Peasant. That's to make a clearance. 

Servants' Cook. Of course, and as soon as there is room 
inside, they begin again! 

[Takes basin, and exit. 

Gregory (at Peasants). Look at them, how they've es- 
tablished themselves down here! Mind, if the mistress finds 
it out she'll give it you hot, like she did this morning! 
[Exit, laughing. 

First Peasant. That's just it, she did raise a storm that 
time — awful ! 

Second Peasant. That time it looked as if the master 
was going to step in, but seeing that the missus was about 
to blow the very roof off the house, he slams the door. 
Have your own way, thinks he. 

Third Peasant (waving his arm). It's the same every- 
where. My old woman, let's say, she kicks up such a 
rumpus sometimes — it's just awful! Then I just get out 
of the hut. Let her go to Jericho! She'll give you one 
with the poker if you don't mind. Oh, Lord! 

[Jacob enters hurriedly with a prescription. 

Jacob. Here, Simon, you run to the chemist's and get 
these powders for the mistress! 

Simon. But master told me not to go out. 



FRUITS OF CULTURE 189 

Jacob. You've plenty of time; your business won't begin 
till after their tea. Hope you are enjoying your tea! 

First Peasant. Thanks, come and join us. 
[Exit Simon. 

Jacob. I haven't time. However, I'll just have one cup 
for company's sake. 

First Peasant. And we've just been having a conversa- 
tion as to how your mistress carried on so haughty this 
morning. 

Jacob. Oh, she's a reg'lar fury! So hot-tempered, that 
she gets quite beside herself. Sometimes she even bursts 
out crying. 

First Peasant. Now, there's a thing I wanted to ask 
you about. What, for example, be these mikerots she was 
illuding to erewhile? "They've infested the house with 
mikerots, with mikerots," she says. What is one to make 
of these same mikerots? 

Jacob. Mikerogues, you mean! Well, it seems there is 
such a kind of bugs; all illnesses come from them, they 
say. So she says there are some of 'em on you. After 
you were gone, they washed and washed and sprinkled the 
place where you had stood. There's a kind of physic as 
kills these same bugs, they say. 

Second Peasant. Then where have we got these bugs 
on us? 

Jacob {drinking his tea). Why, they say they're so 
small that one can't see 'em even through a glass. 

Second Peasant. Then how does she know I've got 'em 
on me? Perhaps there's more of that muck on her than 
on me! 

Jacob. There now, you go and ask her! 

Second Peasant. I believe it's humbug. 

Jacob. Of course it's bosh. The doctors must invent 
something, or else what are they paid for? There's one 
comes to us every day. Comes, — talks a bit, — and pockets 
ten roubles! 

Second Peasant. Nonsense! 

Jacob. Why, there's one as takes a hundred! 

First Peasant. A hundred? Humbug! 

Jacob. A hundred. Humbug, you say' Whv, if ha 



190 FRUITS OF CULTURE 

has to go out of town, he'll not do it for less than a thou- 
sand! "Give a thousand/' he says, "or else you may 
kick the bucket for what I care!" 

Third Peasant. Oh, Lord! 

Second Peasant. Then does he know some charm? 

Jacob. I suppose he must. I served at a General's out- 
side Moscow once: a cross, terrible proud old fellow he 
w r as — just awful. Well, this General's daughter fell ill. 
They send for that doctor at once. "A thousand roubles, 
then I'll come." Well, they agreed, and he came. Then 
they did something or other he didn't like, and he bawled 
out at the General and says, "Is this the way you show 
your respect for me? Then I'll not attend her!" And, oh, 
my! The old General forgot all his pride, and starts wheed- 
ling him in every way not to chuck up the job! 

First Peasant. And he got the thousand? 

Jacob. Of course! 

Second Peasant. That's easy got money. What wouldn't 
a peasant do with such a sum! 

Third Peasant. And I think it's all bosh. That time 
my foot was festering I had it doctored ever so long. I 
spent nigh on five roubles on it, — then I gave up doctor- 
ing, and it got all right! 

[Discharged Cook on the oven coughs. 

Jacob. Ah, the old crony is here again! 

First Peasant. Who might that man be? 

Jacob. He used to be our master's cook. He comes to 
see Loukerya. 

First Peasant. Kitchen-master, as one might say. Then, 
does he live here? 

Jacob. No, they won't allow that. He's here one day, 
there another. If he's got a copper he goes to a doss- 
house; but when he has drunk all, he comes here. 

Second Peasant. How did he come to this? 

Jacob. Simply grew weak. And what a man he used 
to be — like a gentleman! Went about with a gold watch; 
got forty roubles a month wages. And now look at him! 
He'd have starved to death long ago if it hadn't been for 
Loukerya. 

[Enter Servants' Cook with the sour cabbage. 



FRUITS OF CULTURE 191 

Jacob {to Servants' Cook). I see you've got Paul 
Petrovitch here again? 

Servants 9 Cook. And where's he to go to? Is he to go 
and freeze? 

Third Peasant. What liquor does. . . . Liquor, let's 
say . . . 

[Clicks his tongue sympathetically. 

Second Peasant. Of course. A firm man's firm as a 
rock; a weak man's weaker than water. 

Discharged Cook {gets off the oven with trembling 
hands and legs). Loukerya, I say, give us a drop! 

Servants 9 Cook. What are you up to? I'll give you 
such a drop! . . . 

Discharged Cook. Have you no conscience? I'm dying! 
Brothers, a copper . . . 

Servants' Cook. Get back on the oven, I tell you! 

Discharged Cook. Half a glass only, cook, for Heaven's 
sake! I say, do you understand? I ask you in the name 
of Heaven, now! 

Servants 9 Cook. Come along, here's some tea for you. 

Discharged Cook. Tea; what is tea? Weak, sloppy 
stuff. A little vodka — just one little drop . . . Loukerya! 

Third Peasant. Poor old soul, what agony it is! 

Second Peasant. You'd better give him some. 

Servants 9 Cook {gets out a bottle and fills a wine-glass). 
Here you are; you'll get no more. 

Discharged Cook {clutches hold of it and drinks, trem- 
bling all over). Loukerya, Cook! I am drinking, and you 
must understand . . . 

Servants 7 Cook. Now, then, stop your chatter! Get on 
to the oven, and let not a breath of you be heard! 

[The old Cook meekly begins to climb up, mutter- 
ing something to himself. 

Second Peasant. What it is, when a man gives way to 
his weakness! 

First Peasant. That's just it — human weakness. 

Third Peasant. That goes without saying. 

[The Discharged Cook settles down, muttering all 

the time. 
[Silence. 



192 FRUITS OF CULTURE 

Second Peasant, I want to ask you something: that 
girl of Aksinya's as comes from our village and is living 
here. How is she? What is she like? How is she liv- 
ing — I mean, does she live honest? 

Jacob. She's a nice girl; one can say nothing but good 
of her. 

Servants' Cook. I'll tell you straight, daddy; I know 
this here establishment out and out, and if you mean to 
have Tanya for your son's wife — be quick about it, before 
she comes to grief, or else she'll not escape! 

Jacob. Yes, that's true. A while ago we had a girl here, 
Nataly. She was a good girl too. And she was lost 
without rhyme or reason. No better than that chap! 
[Pointing to the old Cook. 

Servants' Cook. There's enough to dam a mill-pool, with 
the likes of us, as perish! 'Cos why, every one is tempted 
by the easy life and the good food. And see there, — as 
soon as one has tasted the good food she goes and slips. 
And once she's slipped, they don't want her, but get a 
fresh one in her place. So it was with dear little Nataly; 
she also slipped, and they turned her out. She had a child 
and fell ill, and died in the hospital last spring. And what 
a girl she used to be! 

Third Peasant. Oh, Lord! People are weak; they ought 
to be pitied. 

Discharged Cook. Those devils pity? No fear! (He 
hangs his legs down from the oven.) I have stood roasting 
myself by the kitchen range for thirty years, and now that 
I am not wanted, I may go and die like a dog. . . . Pity 
indeed! . . . 

First Peasant. That's just it. It's the old circumstances. 

Second Peasant. 

While they drank and they fed, you were "curly head." 
When they'd finished the prog, 'twas "Get out, mangy dog!" 

Third Peasant. Oh Lord! 

Discharged Cook. Much you know. What is "Sautey a 
la Bongmont"? What is "Bavassary"? Oh, the things 
I could make! Think of it! The Emperor tasted my work, 



FRUITS OF CULTURE 193 

Ld now the devils want me no longer. But I am not 
going to stand it! 

Servants' Cook. Now, then, stop that noise, mind. . . . 
Get up right into the corner, so that no one can see you, 
or else Theodore Ivanitch or some one may come in, and 
both you and me'll be turned out! 
[Silence. 

Jacob. And do you know my part of the country? I'm 
from Voznesensky. 

Second Peasant. Not know it? Why, it's no more'n ten 
miles from our village; not that across the ford! Do you 
cultivate any land there? 

Jacob. My brother does, and I send my wages. Though 
I live here, I am dying for a sight of home. 

First Peasant. That's just it. 

Second Peasant. Then Anisim is your brother? 

Jacob. Own brother. He lives at the farther end of 
the village. 

Second Peasant. Of course, I know; his is the third 
house. 

[Enter Tanya, running. 

Tanya. Jacob, what are you doing, amusing yourself 
here? She is calling you! 

Jacob. I'm coming; but what's up? 

Tanya. Frisk is barking; it's hungry. And she's scold- 
ing you. "How cruel he is," she says. "He's no feel- 
ing," she says. "It's long past Frisk's dinner-time, and he 
has not brought her food!" 
[Laughs. 

Jacob (rises to go). Oh, she's cross? What's going to 
happen now, I wonder? 

Servants' Cook. Here, take the cabbage with you. 

Jacob. All right, give it here. 
[Takes basin y and exit. 

First Peasant. Who is going to dine now? 

Tanya. Why, the dog! It's her dog. (Sits down and 
takes up the tea-pot.) Is there any more tea? I've 
brought some. 

[Puts fresh tea into the tea-pot. 

First Peasant. Dinner for a dog? 



194 FRUITS OF CULTURE 

Tanya. Yes, of course! They prepare a special cutlet 
for her; it must not be too fat. And I do the washing — 
the dog's washing, I mean. 

Third Peasant. Oh Lord! 

Tanya. It's like that gentleman who had a funeral for 
his dog. 

Second Peasant. What's that? 

Tanya. Why, some one told me he had a dog — I mean 
the gentleman had a dog. And it died. It was winter, and 
he went in his sledge to bury that dog. Well, he buried it, 
and on the way home he sits and cries — the gentleman does. 
Well, there was such a bitter frost that the coachman's 
nose keeps running, and he has to keep wiping it. Let me 
fill your cup! (Fills it.) So he keeps wiping his nose, and 
the gentleman sees it, and says, "What are you crying 
about?" And the coachman, he says, "Why, sir, how can 
I help it; is there another dog like him?" 
[Laughs. 

Second Peasant. And I daresay he thinks to himself, 
"If your own self was to kick the bucket I'd not cry." 
[Laughs. 

Discharged Cook (from up on the oven). That is true; 
that's right! 

Tanya. Well, the gentleman, he gets home and goes 
straight to his lady: "What a good-hearted man our coach- 
man is; he was crying all the way home about poor Dash. 
Have him called. . . . Here, drink this glass of vodka," he 
says, "and here's a rouble as a reward for you." That's 
just like her saying Jacob has no feelings for her dog! 
[The Peasants laugh. 

First Peasant. That's the style! 

Second Peasant. That was a go! 

Third Peasant. Aye, lassie, but you've set us a-laughing! 

Tanya (pouring out more tea). Have some more! 
Yes, it only seems that our life is pleasant; but sometimes 
it is very disgusting, — clearing up all their messes! Faugh! 
It's better in the country. (Peasants turn their cups upside- 
down, as a polite sign that they have had enough. Tanya 
pours out more tea.) Have some more, Efim Antonitch. 
I'll fill your cup, Mitry Vlasitch. 




FRUITS OF CULTURE 195 

Third Peasant. All right, fill it, fill it. 

First Peasant. Well, dear, and what progression is our 
business making? 

Tanya. It's getting on . . . 

First Peasant. Simon told us . . . 

Tanya {quickly). Did he? 

Second Peasant. But he could not make us under- 
stand. 

Tanya. I can't tell you now, but I'm doing my best — all 
I can! And I've got your paper here! (Shows the paper 
hidden under the bib of her apron.) If only one thing suc- 
ceeds. . . . (Shrieks.) Oh, how nice it would be! 

Second Peasant. Don't lose that paper, mind. It has 
cost money. 

Tanya. Never fear. You only want him to sign it? Is 
that all? 

Third Peasant. Why, what else? Let's say he's signed 
it, and it's done! (Turns his cup upside-down.) I've had 
enough. 

Tanya (aside). He'll sign it; you'll see he will . . . 
Have some more. 

[Pours out tea. 

First Peasant. If only you get this business about the 
sale of the land settled, the Commune would pay your 
marriage expenses. 

[Rejuses the tea. 

Tanya (pouring out tea). Do have another cup. 

Third Peasant. You get it done, and we'll arrange your 
marriage, and I myself, let's say, will dance at the wedding. 
Though I've never danced in all my born days, I'll dance 
then! 

Tanya (laughing). All right, I'll be in hopes of it. 
[Silence. 

Second Peasant (examines Tanya). That's all very 
well, but you're not fit for peasant work. 

Tanya. Who? I? Why, don't you think me strong 
enough? You should see me lacing up my mistress. 
There's many a peasant couldn't tug as hard. 

Second Peasant. Where do you tug her to? 

Tanya. Well, there's a thing made with bone, like — 



196 FRUITS OF CULTURE 

something like a stiff jacket, only up to here! Well, and I 
pull the strings just as when you saddle a horse — when you 
. . . what d'ye call it? You know, when you spit on your 
hands! 

Second Peasant. Tighten the girths, you mean. 

Tanya. Yes, yes, that's it. And you know I mustn't 
shove against her with my knee. 
[Laughs. 

Second Peasant. Why do you pull her in? 

Tanya. For a reason! 

Second Peasant. W'hy, is she doing penance? 

Tanya. No, it's for beauty's sake! 

First Peasant. That's to say, you pull in her paunch 
for appearance' sake. 

Tanya. Sometimes I lace her up so that her eyes are 
ready to start from her head, and she says, "Tighter," till 
my hands tingle. And you say I'm not strong! 
[Peasants laugh and shake their heads. 

Tanya. But here, I've been jabbering. 
[Runs away, laughing. 

Third Peasant. Ah, the lassie has made us laugh! 

First Peasant. She's a tidy one! 

Second Peasant. She's not bad. 

[Enter Sahatof and Vasily Leoniditch. Sahatof 
holds a teaspoon in his hand. 

Vasily Leoniditch. Not exactly a dinner, but a dejeuner 
dinatoire. And first-rate it was, I tell you. Ham of suck- 
ing-pig, delicious! Roulier feeds one splendidly! I've 
only just returned. (Sees Peasants.) Ah, the peasants 
are here again! 

Sahatof. Yes, yes, that's all very well, but we came here 
to hide this article. Where shall we hide it? 

Vasily Leoniditch. Excuse me a. moment. (To Serv- 
ants' Cook.) Where are the dogs? 

Servants' Cook. In the coachman's quarters. You can't 
keep dogs in the servants' kitchen! 

Vasily Leoniditch. Ah, in the coachman's quarters? All 
right. 

Sahatof. I am waiting. 

Vasily Leoniditch. Excuse me, please. Eh, what? Hide 



L 



FRUITS OF CULTURE 197 



I'll tell you what. Let's put it into one of the peasants' 
pockets. That one. I say, where's your pocket? Eh, 
what? 

Third Peasant. What for d'ye want my pocket? You're 
a good 'un! My pocket! There r s money in my pocket! 

Vastly Leoniditch. Where's your bag, then? 

Third Peasant. What for? 

Servants 7 Cook. What d'you mean? That's the young 
master! 

Vastly Leoniditch (laughs. ToSahatof). D'you know 
why he's so frightened? Shall I tell you? He's got a heap 
of money. Eh, what? 

Sahdtoj. Yes, yes, I see. Well, you talk to them a bit, 
and I'll put it into that bag without being observed, so 
that they should not notice and could not point it out to 
him. Talk to them. 

Vastly Leoniditch. All right! (To Peasants.) Well 
then, old fellows, how about the land? Are you buying it? 
Eh, what? 

First Peasant. We have made an offering, so to say, with 
our whole heart. But there, — the business don't come into 
action nohow. 

Vastly Leoniditch. You should not be so stingy! Land 
is an important matter! I told you about planting mint. 
Or else tobacco would also do. 

First Peasant. That's just it. Every kind of producks. 

Third Peasant. And you help us, master. Ask your 
father. Or else how are we to live? There's so little 
land. A fowl, let's say, there's not enough room for a 
fowl to run about. 

Sahdtof (having put the spoon into a bag belonging to 
the Third Peasant). Cest fait. Ready. Come along. 
[Exit. 

Vastly Leoniditch. So don't be stingy! Eh? Well, 
good-bye. [Exit. 

Third Peasant. Didn't I say, come to some lodging- 
house? Well, supposing we'd had to give three-pence each, 
then at least we'd have been in peace. As to here, the Lord 
be merciful! "Give us the money," he says. What's that 
for? 



198 FRUITS OF CULTURE 

Second Peasant. He's drunk, I daresay. 

[Peasants turn their cups upside-down, rise, and 
cross themselves. 

First Peasant. And d'you mind what a saying he threw 
out? Sowing mint! One must know how to understand 
them, that one must! 

Second Peasant. Sow mint indeed! He'd better bend 
his own back at that work, and then it's not mint he'll 
hanker after, no fear! Well, many thanks! . . . And now, 
good woman, would you tell us where we could lie down to 
sleep? 

Servants' Cook. One of you can lie on the oven, and the 
others on these benches. 

Third Peasant. Christ save you! 
[Prays, crossing himself. 

First Peasant. If only by God's help we get our busi- 
ness settled! (Lies down.) Then to-morrow, after dinner, 
we'd be off by the train, and on Tuesday we'd be home 
again. 

Second Peasant. Are you going to put out the light? 

Servants' Cook. Put it out? Oh, no! They'll keep 
running down here, first for one thing then another. . . . 
You lie down, I'll lower it. 

Second Peasant. How is one to live, having so little 
land? Why, this year, I have had to buy corn since 
Christmas. And the oat-straw is all used up. I'd like to 
get hold of ten acres, and then I could take Simon 
back. 

Third Peasant. You're a man with a family. You'd get 
the land cultivated without trouble. If only the business 
comes off. 

Second Peasant. We must pray to the Holy Virgin, 
maybe she'll help us out. (Silence, broken by sighs. Then 
footsteps and voices are heard outside. The door opens. 
Enter Grossman hurriedly, with his eyes bandaged, holding 
Sahatof's hand, and followed by the Professor and the 
Doctor, the Fat Lady and Leonid Fyodoritch, Betsy 
and Petristchef, Vastly Leoniditch and Marya Kon- 
stantinovna, Anna Pavlovna and the Baroness, Theo- 
dore Ivanitch and Tanya.) 



FRUITS OF CULTURE . 199 

[Peasants jump up. Grossman comes forward step- 
ping quickly, then stops. 

Fat Lady. You need not trouble yourselves; I have 
undertaken the task of observing, and am strictly fulfilling 
my duty! Mr. Sahatof, are you not leading him? 

Sahdtof. Of course not! 

Fat Lady. You must not lead him, but neither must you 
resist! {To Leonid Fyodoritch.) I know these experi- 
ments. I have tried them myself. Sometimes I used to 
feel a certain effluence, and as soon as I felt it . . . 

Leonid Fyodoritch. May I beg of you to keep perfect 
silence? 

Fat Lady. Oh, I understand so well! I have experi- 
enced it myself. As soon as my attention was diverted I 
could no longer . . . 

Leonid Fyodoritch. Sh . . . ! 

[Grossman goes about, searches near the First and 
Second Peasants, then approaches the Third, 
and stumbles over a bench. 

Baroness. Mais dites-moi, on le paye? 1 

Anna Pdvlovna. Je ne saurais vous dire. 

Baroness. Mais c'est un monsieur? 

Anna Pdvlovna. Oh, oui! 

Baroness. Qa tient du miraculeux. N'est ce pas? Com- 
ment est-ce qu'il trouve? 

Anna Pdvlovna. Je ne saurais vous dire. Mon mari vous 
Vexpliquera. (Noticing Peasants, turns round, and sees 
the Servants' Cook.) Pardon . . . what is this? 
[Baroness goes up to the group. 

Anna Pdvlovna {to Servants 7 Cook). Who let the 
peasants in? 

Servants' Cook. Jacob brought them in. 

Anna Pdvlovna. Who gave Jacob the order? 

1 Baroness. But tell me, please, is he paid for this? 

Anna Pdvlovna. I really do not know. 

Baroness. But he is a gentleman? 

Anna Pdvlovna. Oh, yes ! 

Baroness. It is almost miraculous. Isn't it? How does he 
manage to find things? 

Anna Pdvlovna. I really can't tell you. My husband will 
explain it to you. . . . Excuse me. . . . 



200 FRUITS OF CULTURE 

Servants' Cook, I can't say. Theodore Ivanitch has 
seen them. 

Anna Pdvlovna. Leonid! 

[Leonid Fyodoritch does not hear, being absorbed 
in the search, and says, Sh.. . . 

Anna Pdvlovna. Theodore Ivanitch! What is the mean- 
ing of this? Did you not see me disinfecting the whole 
hall, and now the whole kitchen is infected, all the rye 
bread, the milk . . . 

Theodore Ivanitch. I thought there would not be any 
danger if they came here. The men have come on busi- 
ness. They have far to go, and are from our village. 

Anna Pdvlovna. That's the worst of it! They are from 
the Koursk village, where people are dying of diphtheria 
like flies! But the chief thing is, I ordered them out of 
the house! . . . Did I, or did I not? (Approaches the 
others that have gathered round the Peasants.) Be care- 
ful! Don't touch them — they are all infected with diph- 
theria ! 

[No one heeds her, and she steps aside in a digni- 
fied manner and stands quietly waiting. 

Petristchef (sniffs loudly). I don't know if it is diph- 
theria, but there is some kind of infection in the air. Don't 
you notice it? 

Betsy. Stop your nonsense! Vovo, which bag is it 
in? 

Vastly Leoniditch. That one, that one. He is getting 
near, very near! 

Petristchef. Is it spirits divine, or spirits of wine? 

Betsy. Now your cigarette comes in handy for once. 
Smoke closer, closer to me. 

[Petristchef leans over her and smokes at her. 

Vastly Leoniditch. He's getting near, I tell you. Eh, 
what? 

Grossman (searches excitedly round the Third Peas- 
ant). It is here; I feel it is! 

Fat Lady. Do you feel an effluence? 

[Grossman stoops and finds the spoon in the bag. 

All. Bravo! 

[General enthusiasm. 



FRUITS OF CULTURE 201 

Vastly Leoniditch. Ah! So that's where our spoon was. 
{To Peasants.) Then that's the sort you are! 

Third Peasant. What sort? I didn't take your spoon! 
What are you making out? I didn't take it, and my soul 
knows nothing about it. I didn't take it — there! Let him 
do what he likes. I knew he came here for no good. 
"Where's your bag?" says he. I didn't take it, the Lord is 
my witness! {Crosses himself.) I didn't take it! 

[The young people group round the Peasant, 
laughing. 

Leonid Fyodoritch {angrily to his son). Always play- 
ing the fool! {To the Third Peasant.) Never mind, 
friend! We know you did not take it; it was only an 
experiment. 

Grossman {removes bandage from his eyes, and pretends 
to be coming to). Can I have a little water? 
[All fuss round him. 

Vasily Leoniditch. Let's go straight from here into the 
coachman's room. I've got a bitch there — epatante! 1 Eh, 
what? 

Betsy. What a horrid word! Couldn't you say dog? 

Vasily Leoniditch. No. I can't say — Betsy is a man, 
epatante. I should have to say young woman; it's a parallel 
case. Eh, what? Marya Konstantinovna, isn't it true? 
Good, eh? 

[Laughs loudly. 

Marya Konstantinovna. Well, let us go. 

[Exeunt Marya Konstantinovna, Betsy, Petrist- 
chef, and Vasily Leoniditch. 

Fat Lady (^Grossman). Well? how are you? Have 
you rested? (Grossman does not answer. To Sahatof.) 
And you, Mr. Sahatof, did you feel the effluence? 

Sahatof. I felt nothing. Yes, it was very fine — very 
fine. Quite a success! 

Baroness — Admirable! Ca ne le fait pas souffrir? 2 

Leonid Fyodoritch. Pas le moins du monde. 

Professor {to Grossman). May I trouble you? 

1 Stunning! 

2 Baroness. Capital! Does it not cause him any pain? 
Leonid Fyodoritch. Not the slightest. 



202 FRUITS OF CULTURE 

{Hands him a thermometer.) At the beginning of the ex- 
periment it was 37 decimal 2 degrees. 1 {To Doctor.) 
That's right, I think? Would you mind feeling his pulse? 
Some loss is inevitable. 

Doctor {to Grossman). Now then, sir, let's have 
your hand; we'll see, we'll see. 

[Takes out his watch and feeis Grossman's pulse. 

Fat Lady {to Grossman). One moment! The condi- 
tion you were in could not be called sleep? 

Grossman {wearily). It was hypnosis. 

Sahdtof. In that case, are we to understand that you 
hypnotised yourself? 

Grossman. And why not? An hypnotic state may ensue 
not only in consequence of association — the sound of the 
tom-tom, for instance, in Charcot's method — but by merely 
entering an hypnogenetic zone. 

Sahdtof. Granting that, it would still be desirable to 
define what hypnotism is, more exactly? 

Professor. Hypnotism is a phenomenon resulting from 
the transmutation of one energy into another. 

Grossman. Charcot does not so define it. 

Sahdtof. A moment, just a moment! That is your 
definition, but Liebault told me himself . . . 

Doctor {lets go of Grossman's pulse). Ah, that's all 
right; well, now, the temperature? 

Fat Lady {interrupting). No, allow me! I agree with 
the Professor. And here's the very best proof. After my 
illness, when I lay insensible, a desire to speak came over 
me. In general I am of a silent disposition, but then 
I was overcome by this desire to speak, and I spoke and 
spoke, and I whs told that I spoke in such a way that every 
one was astonished! {To Sahatof.) But I think I in- 
terrupted you? 

Sahdtof {with dignity). Not at all. Pray continue. 

Doctor. Pulse 82, and the temperature has risen three- 
tenths of a degree. 

Professor. There you are! That's a proof ! That's just 
as it should be. {Takes out pocket-book and writes.) 82, 

1 He uses a Centigrade thermometer. 






FRUITS OF CULTURE 203 

yes? And 37 and 5. When the hypnotic state is induced, 
it invariably produces a heightened action of the heart. 

Doctor. I can, as a medical man, bear witness that your 
prognosis was justified by the event. 

Professor (to Sahatof). You were saying? . . . 
Sahdtof. I wished to say that Liebault told me him- 
self that the hypnotic is only one particular psychical state, 
increasing susceptibility to suggestion. 

Professor. That is so, but still the law of equivalents is 
the chief thing. 

Grossman. Moreover, Liebault is far from being an 
authority, while Charcot has studied the subject from all 
sides, and has proved that hypnotism produced by a blow, 
a trauma . . . 

Sahdtof. Yes, but I don't reject Charcot's labor. 
I know him also, I am only repeating what Liebault 
told me . . . 

Grossman (excitedly). There are 3000 patients in 
the Salpetriere, and I have gone through the whole 
course. 

Professor. Excuse me, gentlemen, but that is not 
the point. 

Fat Lady (interrupting). One moment, I will explain 
it to you in two words. When my husband was ill, all the 
doctors gave him up . . . 

Leonid Fyodoritch. However, we had better go upstairs 
again. Baroness, this way! 

[Exeunt Grossman, Sahatof, Professor, Doctor, 
the Fat Lady, and Baroness, talking loudly and 
interrupting each other. 
Anna Pdvlovna (catching hold of Leonid Fyodoritch's 
arm). How often have I asked you not to interfere in 
household matters! You think of nothing but your non- 
sense, and the whole house is on my shoulders. You will 
infect us all! 

Leonid Fyodoritch. What? How? I don't understand 
what you mean. 

Anna Pdvlovna. How? Why, people ill of diphtheria 
sleep in the kitchen, which is in constant communication 
with the whole house. 






204 FRUITS OF CULTURE 

Leonid Fyodoritch. Yes, but I . . . 

Anna Pdvlovna. What, I? 

Leonid Fyodoritch. I know nothing about it. 

Anna Pdvlovna. It's your duty to know, if you are the 
head of the family. Such things must not be done. 

Leonid Fyodoritch. But I never thought ... I thought . . . 

Anna Pdvlovna. It is sickening to listen to you! 
[Leonid Fyodoritch remains silent. 

Anna Pdvlovna {to Theodore Ivanitch). Turn them 
out at once! They are to leave my kitchen immediately! 
It is terrible! No one listens to me; they do it out of 
spite. ... I turn them out from there, and they bring them 
in here! And with my illness . . . {Gets more and more 
excited, and at last begins to cry.) Doctor! Doctor! 
Peter Petrovitch! . . . He's gone too! . . . 

[Exit, sobbing, followed by Leonid Fyodoritch. 
[All stand silent for a long time. 

Third Peasant. Botheration take them all! If one don't 
mind, the police will be after one here. And I have never 
been to law in all my born days. Let's go to some lodg- 
ing-house, lads! 

Theodore Ivanitch {to Tanya) . What are we to do? 

Tanya. Never mind, Theodore Ivanitch, let them sleep 
with the coachman. 

Theodore Ivanitch. How can we do that? The coach- 
man was complaining as it is, that his place is full of 
dogs. 

Tanya. Well, then, the porter's lodge. 

Theodore Ivanitch. And supposing it's found out? 

Tanya. It won't be found out! Don't trouble abcut 
that, Theodore Ivanitch. How can one turn them out now, 
at night? They'll not find anywhere to go to. 

Theodore Ivanitch. Well, do as you please. Only they 
must go away from here. 
[Exit. 
[Peasants take their bags. 

Discharged Cook. Oh those damned fiends! It's all 
their fat! Fiends! 

Servants 9 Cook. You be quiet there. Thank goodness 
they didn't see you! 



FRUITS OF CULTURE 205 

Tanya. Well then, daddy, come along to the porter's 
lodge. 

First Peasant. Well, but how about our business? How, 
for example, about the applience of his hand to the signa- 
ture? May we be in hopes? 

Tanya. Well see in an hour's time. 

Second Peasant. You'll do the trick? 

Tanya {laughs). Yes, God willing! 

CURTAIN 



ACT III 

Evening of the same day. The small drawing-room in 
Leonid Fyodoritch 's house, where the seances are 
always held. Leonid Fyodoritch and the Professor. 

Leonid Fyodoritch. Well then, shall we risk a seance 
with our new medium? 

Professor. Yes, certainly. He is a powerful medium, 
there is no doubt about it. And it is especially desirable 
that the seance should take place to-day with the same 
people. Grossman will certainly respond to the influence 
of the mediumistic energy, and then the connection and 
identity of the different phenomena will be still more evi- 
dent. You will see then that, if the medium is as strong 
as he was just now, Grossman will vibrate. 

Leonid Fyodoritch. Then I will send for Simon and ask 
those who wish to attend to come in. 

Professor. Yes, all right! I will just jot down a few 
notes. 

[Takes out his note-book and writes. 
[Enter Sahatof. 

Sahdtof. They have just settled down to whist in Anna 
Pavlovna's drawing-room, and as I am not wanted there — 
and as I am interested in your seance — I have put in an 
appearance here. But will there be a seance? 

Leonid Fyodoritch. Yes, certainly! 

Sahdtof. In spite of the absence of Mr. Kaptchitch's 
mediumistic powers? 

Leonid Fyodoritch. Vous avez la main heureuse. % 
Fancy, that very peasant whom I mentioned to you this 
morning turns out to be an undoubted medium; 

Sahdtof. Dear me! Yes, that is peculiarly interest- 
ing! 

I Leonid Fyodoritch. Yes, we tried a few preliminary 
experiments with him just after dinner. 

1 Leonid Fyodoritch. You bring good luck. 
206 




FRUITS OF CULTURE 207 

Sahdtof. So you've had time already to experiment, and 
to convince yourself . . . 

Leonid Fyodoritch. Yes, perfectly! And he turns out 
to be an exceptionally powerful medium. 

Sakdtof (incredulously). Dear me! 

Leonid Fyodoritch, It turns out that it has long been 
noticed in the servants' hall. When he sits down to table, 
the spoon springs into his hand of its own accord! (To the 
Professor.) Had you heard about it? 

Professor. No, I had not heard that detail. 

Sandtof (to the Professor). But still, you admit the 
possibility of such phenomena? 

Professor. What phenomena? 

Sahdtof. Well, spiritualistic, mediumistic, and super- 
natural phenomena in general. 

Professor. The question is, what do we consider super- 
natural? When, not a living man but a piece of stone 
attracted a nail to itself, how did the phenomena strike the 
first observers? As something natural? Or supernatural? 

Sahdtof. Well, of course; but phenomena such as the 
magnet attracting iron always repeat themselves. 

Professor. It is just the same in this case. The phe- 
nomenon repeats itself and we experiment with it. And 
not only that, but we apply to the phenomena we are 
investigating the laws common to other phenomena. These 
phenomena seem supernatural only because their causes 
are attributed to the medium himself. But that is where 
the mistake lies. The phenomena are not caused by the 
medium, but by psychic energy acting through a medium, 
and that is a very different thing. The whole matter lies 
in the law of equivalents. 

Sahdtof. Yes, certainly, but . . . 

[Enter Tanya, who hides behind the hangings. 

Leonid Fyodoritch. Only remember that we cannot 
reckon on any results with certainty, with this medium 
any more than with Home or Kaptchitch. 1 We may not 
succeed, but on the other hand we may even have perfect 
materialisation. 

Sahdtof. Materialisation even? What do you mean by 
materialisation? 



208 FRUITS OF CULTURE 

Leonid Fyodoritch. Why, I mean that some one who is 
dead — say, your father or your grandfather — may appear, 
take you by the hand, or give you something; or else 
some one may suddenly rise into the air, as happened to 
Alexey Vladimiritch last time. 

Professor. Of course, of course. But the chief thing 
is the explanation of the phenomena, and the application 
to them of general laws. 

[Enter the Fat Lady. 

Fat Lady. Anna Pavlovna has allowed me to join you. 

Leonid Fyodoritch. Very pleased. 

Fat Lady. Oh, how tired Grossman seems! He could 
scarcely hold his cup. Did you notice {to the Professor) 
how pale he turned at the moment he approached the 
hiding-place? I noticed it at once, and was the first to 
mention it to Anna Pavlovna. 

Professor. Undoubtedly, — loss of vital energy. 

Fat Lady. Yes, it's just as I say, one should not abuse 
that sort of thing. You know, a hypnotist once suggested 
to a friend of mine, Vera Konshin (oh, you know her, of 
course) — well, he suggested that she should leave off smok- 
ing, — and her back began to ache! 

Professor (trying to have his say). The temperature 
and the pulse clearly indicate . . . 

Fat Lady. One moment! Allow me! Well, I said to 
her: it's better to smoke than to suffer so with one's nerves. 
Of course, smoking is injurious; I should like to give it 
up myself, but, do what I will, I can't! Once I managed 
not to smoke for a fortnight, but could hold out no longer. 

Professor {again trying to speak) . Clearly proves . . . 

Fat Lady. Yes, no! Allow me, just one word! You 
say, "loss of strength." And I was also going to say that, 
when I travelled with post-horses ... the roads used to 
be dreadful in those days — you don't remember — but I have 
noticed that all our nervousness comes from railways! I, 
for instance, can't sleep while travelling; I cannot fall asleep 
to save my life! 

Professor (makes another attempt, which the Fat Lady 
baffles). The loss of strength . . . 

Sahdtof (smiling). Yes; oh yes! 



FRUITS OF CULTURE 209 



[Leonid Fyodoritch rings. 

Fat Lady. I am awake one night, and another, and a 
third, and still I can't sleep! 
[Enter Gregory. 

Leonid Fyodoritch. Please tell Theodore to get every- 
thing ready for the seance, and send Simon here — Simon, 
the butler's assistant, — do you hear? 

Gregory. Yes, sir. 
[Exit. 

Professor {to Sahatof). The observation of the tem- 
perature and the pulse have shown loss of vital energy. 
The same will happen in consequence of the mediumistic 
phenomena. The law of the conservation of energy . . . 

Fat Lady. Oh yes, yes; I was just going to say that I 
am very glad that a simple peasant turns out to be a 
medium. That's very good. I always did say that the 
Slavophils . . . 

Leonid Fyodoritch. Let's go into the drawing-room in 
the meantime. 

Fat Lady. Allow me, just one word! The Slavophils 
are right; but I always told my husband that one ought 
never to exaggerate anything! "The golden mean," you 
know. What is the use of maintaining that the common 
people are all perfect, when I have myself seen . . . 

Leonid Fyodoritch. Won't you come into the drawing- 
room? 

Fat Lady. A boy — that high — who drank! I gave him 
a scolding at once. And he was grateful to me afterwards. 
They are children, and, as I always say, children need 
both love and severity! 

[Exeunt all, all talking together. 

[Tanya enters from behind the hangings. 

Tanya. Oh, if it would only succeed! 
[Begins fastening some threads. 
[Enter Betsy hurriedly. 

Betsy. Isn't papa here? {Looks inquiringly at Tanya.) 
What are you doing here? 

Tdnya. Oh, Miss Elizabeth, I have only just come; I 
only wished . . . only came in . . . 
[Embarrassed. 



210 FRUITS OF CULTURE 

Betsy. But they are going to have a seance here directly. 
(Notices Tanya drawing in the threads , looks at her, and 
suddenly bursts out laughing.) Tanya! Why, it's you 
who do it all? Now don't deny it. And last time it was 
you too? Yes, it was, it was! 

Tanya. Miss Elizabeth, dearest! 

Betsy (delighted). Oh, that is a joke! Well, I never. 
But why do you do it? 

Tanya. Oh miss, dear miss, don't betray me! 

Betsy. Not for the w 7 orld! I'm awfully glad. Only tell 
me how you manage it? 

Tanya. Well, I just hide, and then, when it's all dark, I 
come out and do it. That's how. 

Betsy (pointing to threads). And what is this for? 
You needn't tell me. I see; you draw . . . 

Tanya. Miss Elizabeth, darling! I will confess it, but 
only to you. I used to do it just for fun, but now I mean 
business. 

Betsy. W T hat? How? What business? 

Tanya. Well, you see, those peasants that came this 
morning, you saw them. They want to buy some land, 
and your father won't sell it; well, and Theodore Ivanitch, 
he says it's the spirits as forbid him. So I have had a 
thought as . . . 

Betsy. Oh, I see! Well, you are a clever girl! Do it, 
do it. . . . But how will you manage it? 

Tanya. Well, I thought, when they put out the lights, 
I'll at once begin knocking and shying things about, touch- 
ing their heads with the threads, and at last I'll take the 
paper about the land and throw it on the table. I've got 
it here. 

Betsy. Well, and then? 

Tanya. Why, don't you see? They will be astonished. 
The peasants had the paper, and now it's here. I will 
teach . . . 

Betsy. Why, of course! Simon is the medium to- 
day! 

Tanya. Well, I'll teach him . . . (Laughs so that she 
can't continue.) I'll tell him to squeeze with his hands any 
one he can get hold of! Of course, not your father — he'd 






FRUITS OF CULTURE 211 



never dare do that — but any one else; he'll squeeze till it's 
signed. 

Betsy {laughing). But that's not the way it is done. 
Mediums never do anything themselves. 

Tanya. Oh, never mind. It's all one; I daresay it'll 
turn out all right. 

[Enter Theodore Ivanitch. 

[Exit Betsy, making signs to Tanya. 

Theodore Ivanitch. Why are you here? 

Tanya. It's you I want, Theodore Ivanitch, dear . . . 

Theodore Ivanitch. Well, what is it? 

Tanya. About that affair of mine as I spoke of. 

Theodore Ivanitch {laughs). I've made the match; 
yes, I've made the match. The matter is settled; we have 
shaken hands on it, only not had a drink on it. 

Tanya {with a shriek) . Never! So it's all right? 

Theodore Ivanitch. Don't I tell you so? He says, "I 
shall consult the missus, and then, God willing ..." 

Tanya. Is that what he said? {Shrieks.) Dear Theo- 
dore Ivanitch, I'll pray for you all the days of my 
life! 

Theodore Ivanitch. All right! All right! Now is not 
the time. I've been ordered to arrange the room for the 
seance. 

Tanya. Let me help you. How's it to be arranged? 

Theodore Ivanitch. How? Why, the table in the mid- 
dle of the room — chairs — the guitar — the accordion. The 
lamp is not wanted, only candles. 

Tanya {helps Theodore Ivanitch to place the things). 
Is that right? The guitar here, and lire the inkstand. 
{Places it.) So? 

Theodore Ivanitch. Can it be true that they'll make 
Simon sit here? 

Tanya. I suppose so; they've done it once. 

Theodore Ivanitch. Wonderful! {Puts on his pince- 
nez.) But is he clean? 

Tanya. How should I know? 

Theodore Ivanitch. Then, I'll tell you what . . . 

Tanya. Yes, Theodore Ivanitch? 

Theodore Ivanitch. Go and take a nail-brush and some 



212 FRUITS OF CULTURE 

Pears' soap; you may take mine . . . and go and cut his 
claws and scrub his hands as clean as possible. 

Tanya. He can do it himself. 

Theodore Ivdnitch. Well then, tell him to. And tell 
him to put on a clean shirt as well. 

Tanya. All right, Theodore Ivanitch. 
[Exit. 

Theodore Ivdnitch (sits down in an easy-chair). 
They're educated and learned — Alexey Vladimiritch now, 
he's a professor — and yet sometimes one can't help doubting 
very much. The people's rude superstitions are being 
abolished: hobgoblins, sorcerers, witches. . . . But if one 
considers it, is not this equally superstitious? How is it 
possible that the souls of the dead should come and talk, 
and play the guitar? No! Some one is fooling them, or 
they are fooling themselves. And as to this business with 
Simon — it's simply incomprehensible. (Looks at an album.) 
Here's their spiritualistic album. How is it possible to 
photograph a spirit? But here is the likeness of a Turk 
and Leonid Fyodoritch sitting by. . . . Extraordinary 
human weakness! 

[Enter Leonid Fyodoritch. 

Leonid Fyodoritch. Is it all ready? 

Theodore Ivdnitch (rising leisurely). Quite ready. 
(Smiles.) Only I don't know about your new medium. I 
hope he won't disgrace you, Leonid Fyodoritch. 

Leonid Fyodoritch. No, I and Alexey Vladimiritch have 
tested him. He is a wonderfully powerful medium! 

Theodore Ivdnitch. Well, I don't know. But is he 
clean enough? I clon't suppose you have thought of order- 
ing him to wash his hands? It might be rather incon- 
venient. 

Leonid Fyodoritch. His hands? Oh yes! They're not 
clean, you think? 

Theodore Ivdnitch. What can you expect? He's a 
peasant, and there will be ladies present, and Marya 
Vasilevna. 

Leonid Fyodoritch. It will be all right. 

Theodore Ivdnitch. And then I have something to re- 



FRUITS OF CULTURE 213 

port to you. Timothy, the coachman, complains that he 
can't keep things clean because of the dogs. 

Leonid Fyodoritch (arranging the things on the table 
absentmindedly) . What dogs? 

Theodore Ivdnitch. The three hounds that came for 
Vasily Leoniditch to-day. 

Leonid Fyodoritch {vexed). Tell Anna Pavlovna! She 
can do as she likes about it. I have no time. 

Theodore Ivdnitch. But you know her weakness- . . . 

Leonid Fyodoritch. 'Tis just as she likes, let her do as 
she pleases. As for him, — one never gets anything but 
unpleasantness from him. Besides, I am busy. 

[Enter Simon, smiling; he has a sleeveless peasant's 
coat on. 

Simon. I was ordered to come. 

Leonid Fyodoritch. Yes, it's all right. Let me see your 
hands. That will do, that will do very well! Well, then, 
my good fellow, you must do just as you did before, — sit 
down, and give way to your mood. But don't think at 
all. 

Simon. Why should I think? The more one thinks, the 
worse it is. 

Leonid Fyodoritch. Just so, just so, exactly! The less 
conscious one is, the greater is the power. Don't think, 
but give in to your mood. If you wish to sleep, sleep; if 
you wish to walk, walk. Do you understand? 

Simon. How could one help understanding? It's simple 
enough. 

Leonid Fyodoritch. But above all, don't be frightened. 
Because you might be surprised yourself. You must under- 
stand that just as we live here, so a whole world of invisible 
spirits live here also. 

Theodore Ivdnitch (improving on what Leonid Fyo- 
doritch has said). Invisible feelings, do you understand? 

Simon (laughs). How can one help understanding! 
It's very plain as you put it. 

Leonid Fyodoritch. You may rise up in the air, or some- 
thing of the kind, but don't be frightened. 

Simon. Why should I be frightened? That won't mat- 
ter at all. 



214 FRUITS OF CULTURE 

Leonid Fyodoritch, Well then, I'll go and call them 
all. ... Is everything ready? 

Theodore Ivdnitch. I think so. 

Leonid Fyodoritch. But the slates? 

Theodore Ivdnitch. They are downstairs. I'll bring 
them. 

[Exit. 

Leonid Fyodoritch. All right then. So don't be afraid, 
I but be at your ease. 

Simon. Had I not better take off my coat? One would 
be more easy like. 

Leonid Fyodoritch. Your coat? Oh no. Don't take 
that off. 

[Exit. 

Simon. She tells me to do the same again, and she will 
again shy things about. How isn't she afraid? 

[Enter Tanya in her stockings and in a dress of the 
color of the wall-paper. Simon laughs. 

Tanya. Shsh! . . . They'll hear! There, stick these 
matches on your fingers as before. (Sticks them on.) 
Well, do you remember everything? 

Simon (bending his fingers in, one by one). First of all, 
wet the matches and wave my hands about, that's one. 
Then make my teeth chatter, like this . . . that's two. But 
I've forgotten the third thing. 

Tanya. And it's the third as is the chief thing. Don't 
forget as soon as the paper falls on the table — I shall ring 
the little bell — then you do like this. . . . Spread your 
arms out far and catch hold of some one, whoever it is 
as sits nearest, and catch hold of him. And then squeeze! 
(Laughs.) Whether it's a gentleman or a lady, it's all one; 
you just squeeze 'em, and don't let 'em go, — as if it were 
in your sleep, and chatter with your teeth, or else howl 
like this. (Howls sotto-voce.) And when I begin to 
play on the guitar, then stretch yourself as if you were 
waking up, you know. . . . Will you remember every- 
thing? 

Simon. Yes, I'll remember, but it is too funny. 

Tanya. But mind you don't laugh. Still, it won't mat- 
ter much if you do laugh; they'd think it was in your sleep. 



FRUITS OF CULTURE 215 

Only take care you don't really fall asleep when they put 
out the lights. 

Simon. No fear, I'll pinch my ears. 
Tanya. Well, then, Sim, darling, only mind do as I tell 
you, and don't get frightened. He'll sign the paper, see 
if he don't! They're coming! 
[Gets under the sofa. 

[Enter Grossman and the Professor, Leonid Fyo- 
doritch and the Fat Lady, the Doctor, Sahatof 
and Anna Pavlovna. Simon stands near the 
door. 
Leonid Fyodoritch. Please come in, all you doubters! 
Though we have a new and accidentally discovered medium, 
I expect very important phenomena to-night. 
Sahatof. That's very, very interesting. 
Fat Lady (pointing to Simon). Mais il est tres bien! % 
Anna Pavlovna. Yes, as a butler's assistant, but 
hardly . . . 

Sahatof. Wives never have any faith in their husbands' 
work. You don't believe in anything of this kind? 

Anna Pavlovna. Of course not. Kaptchitch, it is true, 
has something exceptional about him, but Heaven knows 
what all this is about! 

Fat Lady. No, Anna Pavlovna, permit me, you can't 
decide it in such a way. Before I was married, I once 
had a remarkable dream. Dreams, you know, are often 
such that you don't know where they begin and where 
they end; it was just such a dream that I . . . 

[Enter Vasily Leoniditch and Petristchef. 
Fat Lady. And much was revealed to me by that dream. 
Nowadays the young people (points to Petristchef and 
Vasily Leoniditch) deny everything. 

Vasily Leoniditch. But look here, you know — now I, 
for instance, never deny anything! Eh, what? 

[Betsy and Mary a Konstantinovna enter, and 

begin talking to Petristchef. 

Fat Lady. And how can one deny the supernatural? 

They say it is unreasonable. But what if one's reason is 

stupid; what then? There now, on Garden Street, you 

1 Fat Lady. But he looks quite nice. 



216 FRUITS OF CULTURE 

know . . . why, well, it appeared every evening! My hus- 
band's brother — what do you call him? Not beau-frere — 
what's the other name for it? — I never can remember the 
names of these different relationships — well, he went there 
three nights running, and still he saw nothing; so I said 
to him . . . 

Leonid Fyodoritch. Well, who is going to stay here? 

Fat Lady. I! I! 

Sahatof. I. 

Anna Pdvlovna (to Doctor). Do you mean to say you 
are going to stay? 

Doctor. Yes; I must see, if only once, what it is that 
Alexey Viadimiritch has discovered in it. How can we 
deny anything without proof? 

Anna Pdvlovna. Then I am to take it to-night for cer- 
tain? 

Doctor. Take what? . . . Oh, the powder. Yes, it 
would perhaps be better. Yes, yes, take it. . . . However, 
I shall come upstairs again. 

Anna Pdvlovna. Yes, please do. (Loud.) When it is 
over, mesdames et messieurs, I shall expect you to come to 
me upstairs to rest from your emotions, and then we will 
finish our rubber. 

Fat Lady. Oh, certainly. 

Sahatof. Yes, thanks! 

[Exit Anna Pavlovna. 

Betsy (to Petristchef). You must stay, I tell you. 
I promise you something extraordinary. Will you bet? 

Mdrya Konstantinovna. But you don't believe in it? 

Betsy. To-day I do. 

Mdrya Konstantinovna (to Petristchef). And do 
you believe? 

Petristchef. "I can't believe, I cannot trust a heart for 
falsehood framed." Still, if Elizabeth Leonidovna com- 
mands ... 

Vastly Leoniditch. Let us stay, Marya Konstantinovna. 
Eh, what? I shall invent something epatant. 

Mdrya Konstantinovna. No, you mustn't make me 
laugh. You know I can't restrain myself. 

Vastly Leoniditch (loud). I remain! 



FRUITS OF CULTURE 217 

Leonid Fyodoritch {severely). But I beg those who 
remain not to joke about it. It is a serious matter. 

Petristchef. Do you hear? Well then, let's stay. Vovo, 
sit here, and don't be too shy. 

Betsy. Yes, it's all very well for you to laugh; but just 
wait till you see what will happen. 

Vastly Leoniditch. Oh, but supposing it's true? Won't 
it be a go! Eh, what? 

Petristchej {trembles). Oh, I'm afraid, I'm afraid! 
Marya Konstantinovna, I'm afraid! My tootsies tremble. 

Betsy {laughing). Not so loud. 
[All sit down. 

Leonid Fyodoritch. Take your seats, take your seats. 
Simon, sit down! 

Simon. Yes, sir. 

[Sits down on the edge of the chair. 

Leonid Fyodoritch. Sit properly. 

Professor. Sit straight in the middle of the chair, and 
quite at your ease. 

[Arranges Simon on his chair, 
[Betsy, Marya Konstantinovna and Vasily 
Leoniditch laugh. 

Leonid Fyodoritch {raising his voice). I beg those who 
are going to remain here not to behave frivolously, but to 
regard this matter seriously, or bad results might follow. 
Do you hear, Vovo! If you can't be quiet, go away! 

Vasily Leoniditch. Quiet, quiet! 
[Hides behind Fat Lady. 

Leonid Fyodoritch. Alexey Vladimiritch, will you mes- 
merise him? 

Professor. No; why should I do it when Anton Borisitch 
is here? He has had far more practice and has more 
power in that department than I. . . . Anton Borisitch! 

Grossman. Ladies and gentlemen, I am not, strictly 
speaking, a spiritualist. I have only studied hypnotism. 
It is true I have studied hypnotism in all its known mani- 
festations; but what is called spiritualism, is entirely un- 
known to me. Wlien a subject is thrown into a trance, I 
may expect the hypnotic phenomena known to me: lethargy, 
abulia, anaesthesia, analgesia, catalepsy, and every kind of 



218 FRUITS OF CULTURE 

susceptibility to suggestion. Here it is not these but other 
phenomena we expect to observe. Therefore it would be 
well to know of what kind are the phenomena we expect to 
witness, and what is their scientific significance. 

Sahdtof. I thoroughly agree with Mr. Grossman. Such 
an explanation would be very interesting. 

Leonid Fy odor itch. I think Alexey Vladimiritch will not 
refuse to give us a short explanation. 

Professor. Why not? I can give an explanation if it is 
desired. (To the Doctor.) Will you kindly note his tem- 
perature and pulse? My explanation must, of necessity, be 
cursory and brief. 

Leonid Fyodoritch. Yes, please; briefly, quite briefly. 

Doctor. All right. (Takes out thermometer.) Now 
then, my lad . . . 

[Places the thermometer. 

Simon. Yes, sir! 

Professor (rising and addressing the Fat Lady — then re- 
seating himself). Ladies and gentlemen! The phenome- 
non we are investigating to-night is regarded, on the one 
hand, as something new; and, on the other, as something 
transcending the limits of natural conditions. Neither view 
is correct. This phenomenon is not new but is as old as 
the world; and it is not supernatural but is subject to the 
eternal laws that govern all that exists. This phenomenon 
has been usually defined as "intercourse with the spirit 
world." That definition is inexact. Under such a defini- 
tion the spirit world is contrasted with the material world. 
But this is erroneous; there is no such contrast! Both 
worlds are so closely connected that it is impossible to 
draw a line of demarcation, separating the one from the 
other. We say matter is composed of molecules . . . 

Petristchef. Prosy matter! 

[Whispering and laughter. 

Professor (pauses, then continues). Molecules are com- 
posed of atoms, but the atoms, having no extension, are in 
reality nothing but the points of application of forces. 
Strictly speaking, not of forces but of energy, that same 
energy which is as much a unity and just as indestructible 
as matter. But matter, though one, has many different 






FRUITS OF CULTURE 219 

aspects, and the same is true of energy. Till recently 
only four forms of energy, convertible into one another, 
have been known to us: energies known as the dynamic, 
the thermal, the electric, and the chemic. But these four 
aspects of energy are far from exhausting all the varieties 
of its manifestation. The forms in which energy may mani- 
fest itself are very diverse, and it is one of these new and 
as yet but little known phases of energy, that we are in- 
vestigating to-night. I refer to mediumistic energy. 

[Renewed whispering and laughter among the young 
people. 

Professor (stops and casts a severe look round). Medi- 
umistic energy has been known to mankind for ages: 
prophecy, presentiments, visions and so on, are nothing but 
manifestations of mediumistic energy. The manifestations 
produced by it have, I say, been known to mankind for 
ages. But the energy itself has not been recognised as such 
till quite recently — not till that medium, the vibrations of 
which cause the manifestations of mediumistic energy, 
was recognised. In the same way that the phenomena of 
light were inexplicable until the existence of an imponder- 
able substance — an ether — was recognised, so mediumistic 
phenomena seemed mysterious until the now fully estab- 
lished fact was recognised, that between the particles of 
ether there exists another still more rarefied imponderable 
substance not subject to the law of the three dimensions . . . 
[Renewed laughter, whispers, and giggling. 

Professor (again looks round severely). And just as 
mathematical calculations have irrefutably proved the exist- 
ence of imponderable ether which gives rise to the phe- 
nomena of light and electricity, so the successive investiga- 
tions of the ingenious Hermann, of Schmidt, and of Joseph 
Schmatzhofen, have confirmed beyond a doubt the existence 
of a substance which fills the universe and may be called 
spiritual ether. 

Fat Lady. Ah, now I understand. I am so grate- 
ful .. . 

Leonid Fyodoritch. Yes, but Alexey Vladimiritch, could 
you not . . . condense it a little? 

Professor (not heeding the remark). And so, as I have 



220 FRUITS OF CULTURE 

just had the honor of mentioning to you, a succession of 
strictly scientific experiments have made plain to us the 
laws of mediumistic phenomena. These experiments have 
proved that, when certain individuals are plunged into a 
hypnotic state (a state differing from ordinary sleep only 
by the fact that man's physiological activity is not lowered 
by the hypnotic influence but, on the contrary, is always 
heightened — as we have recently witnessed), when, I say, 
any individual is plunged into such a state, this always pro- 
duces certain perturbations in the spiritual ether — pertur- 
bations quite similar to those produced by plunging a solid 
body into liquid matter. These perturbations are what we 
call mediumistic phenomena . . . 
[Laughter and whispers. 

Sahdtof. That is quite comprehensible and correct; but 
if, as you are kind enough to inform us, the plunging of 
the medium into a trance produces perturbations of the 
spiritual ether, allow me to ask why (as is usually supposed 
to be the case in spiritualistic seances) these perturbations 
result in an activity on the part of the souls of dead people? 

Professor. It is because the molecules of this spiritual 
ether are nothing but the souls of the living, the dead, 
and the unborn, and any vibration of the spiritual ether 
must inevitably cause a certain vibration of its atoms. 
These atoms are nothing but human souls, which enter 
into communication with one another by means of these 
movements. 

Fat Lady (to Sahatof). What is it that puzzles you? 
It is so simple. . . . Thank you so, so much! 

Leonid Fyodoritch. I think everything has now been 
explained, and that we may commence. 

Doctor. The fellow is in a perfectly normal condition: 
temperature 37 decimal 2, pulse 74. 

Professor (takes out his pocket-book and notes this 
down). What I have just had the honor of explaining will 
be confirmed by the fact, which we shall presently have an 
opportunity of observing, that after the medium has been 
thrown into a trance his temperature and pulse will inev- 
itably rise, just as occurs in cases of hypnotism. 

Leonid Fyodoritch. Yes, yes. But excuse me a moment. 



FRUITS OF CULTURE 221 

I should like to reply to Sergey Ivanitch's question: How 
do we know we are in communication with the souls of 
the dead? We know it because the spirit that appears, 
plainly tells us — as simply as I am speaking to you — who 
he is, and why he has come, and whether all is well with 
him! At our last seance a Spaniard, Don Castillos, came 
to us, and he told us everything. He told us who he was, 
and when he died, and that he was suffering for having 
taken part in the Inquisition. He even told us what was 
happening to him at the very time that he was speaking 
to us, namely, that at the very time he was talking to us 
he had to be born again on earth, and, therefore, could 
not continue his conversation with us. . . . But you'll see 
for yourselves . . . 

Fat Lady (interrupting). Oh, how interesting! Per- 
haps the Spaniard was born in one of our houses and is a 
baby now! 

Leonid Fyodoritch. Quite possibly. 

Professor. I think it is time we began. 

Leonid Fyodoritch. I was only going to say . . . 

Professor. It is getting late. 

Leonid Fyodoritch. Very well. Then we will com- 
mence. Anton Borisitch, be so good as to hypnotize the 
medium. 

Grossman. What method would you like me to use? 
There are several methods. There is Braid's system, there 
is the Egyptian symbol, and there is Charcot's system. 

Leonid Fyodoritch (to the Professor). I think it is 
quite immaterial. 

Professor. Quite. 

Grossman. Then I will make use of my own method, 
which I showed in Odessa. 

Leonid Fyodoritch. If you please! 

[Grossman waves his arms above Simon. Simon 
closes his eyes and stretches himself. 

Grossman (looking closely at him). He is falling asleep! 
He is asleep! A remarkably rapid occurrence of hypnosis. 
The subject has evidently already reached a state of anaes- 
thesia. He is remarkable, — an unusually impressionable 
subject, and might be subjected to interesting experiments! 



222 FRUITS OF CULTURE 

. . . (Sits down, rises, sits down again.) Now one might 
run a needle into his arm. If you like . . . 

Professor (to Leonid Fyodoritch). Do you notice how 
the medium's trance acts on Grossman? He is beginning 
to vibrate. 

Leonid Fyodoritch. Yes, yes . . . can the lights be ex- 
tinguished now? 

Sahdtoj. But why is darkness necessary? 

Professor. Darkness? Because it is a condition of the 
manifestation of mediumistic energy, just as a given tem- 
perature is a condition necessary for certain manifestations 
of chemical or dynamic energy. 

Leonid Fyodoritch. But not always. Manifestations 
have been observed by me, and by many others, both by 
candlelight and daylight. 

Professor (interrupting). May the lights be put out? 

Leonid Fyodoritch. Yes, certainly. (Puts out candles.) 
Ladies and gentlemen! attention, if you please. 

[Tanya gets from under the sofa and takes hold of 
a thread tied to a chandelier. 

Petristchef. I like that Spaniard! Just in the midst 
of a conversation — off he goes head downwards ... as 
the French say: piquer une tete. 1 

Betsy. You just wait a bit, and see what will happen! 

Petristchef. I have only one fear, and that is that Vovo 
may be moved by the spirit to grunt like a pig! 

Vastly Leoniditch. Would you like me to? I will . . . 

Leonid Fyodoritch. Gentlemen! Silence, if you please! 
[Silence. Simon licks the matches on his fingers and 
rubs his knuckles with them. 

JLeonid Fyodoritch. A light! Do you see the light? 

Sahdtof. A light? Yes, yes, I see; but allow me . . . 

Fat Lady. Where? Where? Oh, dear, I did not see it! 
Ah, there it is. Oh! . . . 

Professor (whispers to Leonid Fyodoritch, and points 
to Grossman, who is moving). Do you notice how he 
vibrates? It is the dual influence. 
[The light appears again. 

1 To take a header. 



FRUITS OF CULTURE 223 

Leonid Fyodoritch {to the Professor). It must be he 
— you know! 

Sahdtof. Who? 

Leonid Fyodoritch. A Greek, Nicholas. It is his light. 
Don't you think so, Alexey Vladimiritch? 

Sahdtof. Who is this Greek, Nicholas? 

Professor. A certain Greek, who was a monk at Con- 
stantinople under Constantine and who has been visiting 
us lately. 

Fat Lady. Where is he? Where is he? I don't see him. 

Leonid Fyodoritch. He is not yet visible . . . Alexey 
Vladimiritch, he is particularly well disposed towards you. 
You question him. 

Professor {in a peculiar voice). Nicholas! Is that 
you? 

[Tanya raps twice on the wall. 

Leonid Fyodoritch {joyfully). It is he! It is he! 

Fat Lady. Oh, dear! Oh! I shall go away! 

Sahdtof. Why do you suppose it is he? 

Leonid Fyodoritch. Why, the two knocks. It is a» 
affirmative answer; else all would have been silence. 

[Silence. Suppressed giggling in the young peoples 
corner. Tanya throws a lampshade, pencil and 
penwiper upon the table. 

Leonid Fyodoritch {whispers). Do you notice, gentle- 
men, here is a lamp-shade, and something else — a pencil! 
. . . Alexey Vladimiritch, it is a pencil! 

Professor. All right, all right! I am watching both him 
and Grossman! 

[Grossman rises and feels the things that have 
fallen on the table. 

Sahdtof. Excuse me, excuse me! I should like to see 
whether it is not the medium who is doing it all himself? 

Leonid Fyodoritch. Do you think so? Well, sit by him 
and hold his hands. But you may be sure he is asleep. 

Sahdtof {approaches. Tanya lets a thread touch hit 
head. lie is frightened, and stoops). Ye . . . ye . . . 
yes! Strange, very strange! 

[Takes hold of Simon's elbow. Simon howls. 

Professor {to Leonid Fyodoritch). Do you notice the 



224 FRUITS OF CULTURE 

effect of Grossman's presence? It is a new phenomenon — 
I must note it . . . 

[Runs out to note it down, and returns again. 

Leonid Fyodoritch. Yes. . . . But we cannot leave 
Nicholas without an answer. We must begin . . . 

Grossman (rises , approaches Simon and raises and low- 
ers his arm). It would be interesting to produce contrac- 
tion! The subject is in profound hypnosis. 

Professor (to Leonid Fyodoritch). Do you see? Do 
you see? 

Grossman. If you like . . . 

Doctor. Now then, my dear sir, leave the manage- 
ment to Alexey Vladimiritch; the affair is turning out 
serious. 

Professor. Leave him alone, he (referring to Grossman) 
is talking in his sleep! 

Fat Lady. How glad I now am that I resolved to be 
present! It is frightening, but all the same I am glad, for 
I always said to my husband . . . 

Leonid Fyodoritch. Silence, if you please. 

[Tanya draws a thread over the Fat Lady's head. 

Fat Lady. Aie! 

Leonid Fyodoritch. What? What is it? 

Fat Lady. He took hold of my hair! 

Leonid Fyodoritch (whispers). Never mind, don't be 
afraid, give him your hand. His hand will be cold, but I 
like it. 

Fat Lady (hides her hands). Not for the world! 

Sahdtof. Yes, it is strange, very strange! 

Leonid Fyodoritch. He is here and is seeking for inter- 
course. Who wishes to put a question to him? 

Sahdtof. I should like to put a question, if I may. 

Professor. Please do. 

Sahdtof. Do I believe or not? 
[Tanya knocks twice. 

Professor. The answer is affirmative. 

Sahdtof. Allow me to ask again. Have I a ten rouble 
note in my pocket? 

[Tanya knocks several times and passes a thread 
over Sahatof's head. 



FRUITS OF CULTURE 225 

Sahdtof. Ah! [Seizes the thread and breaks it. 

Professor. I should ask those present not to ask in- 
definite or trivial questions. It is unpleasant to him! 

Sahdtof. No, but allow me! Here I have a thread in my 
hand! 

Leonid Fyodoritch. A thread? Hold it fast; that hap- 
pens often, and not only threads but sometimes even silk 
cords — very ancient ones! 

Sahdtof. No — but where did this thread come from? 
[Tanya throws a cushion at him. 

Sahdtof. Wait a bit; wait! Something soft has hit me 
on the head. Light a candle — there is something . . . 

Professor. We beg of you not to interrupt the manifes- 
tations. 

Fat Lady. For goodness' sake, don't interrupt! I 
should also like to ask something. May I? 

Leonid Fyodoritch. Yes, if you like. 

Fat Lady. I should like to ask about my digestion. 
May I? I want to know what to take: aconite or bella- 
donna? 

[Silence, whispers among the young people; sud- 
denly Vasily Leoniditch begins to cry like a 
baby: u ou-a, ou-a!" (Laughter.) Holding their 
mouths and noses, the girls and Petristchef run 
away bursting with laughter. 

Fat Lady. Ah, that must be the monk who's been born 
again! 

Leonid Fyodoritch (beside himself with anger, whis- 
pers). One gets nothing but tomfoolery from you! If you 
don't know how to behave decently, go away! 

[Exit Vasily Leoniditch. Darkness and silence. 

Fat Lady. Oh, what a pity! Now one can't ask any 
more! He is born! 

Leonid Fyodoritch, Not at all. It is only Vovo's non- 
sense. But he Is here. Ask him. 

Professor. That often happens. These jokes and ridi- 
cule are quite usual occurrences. I expect he is still here. 
But we may ask. Leonid Fyodoritch, will you? 

Leonid Fyodoritch. No, you, if you please. This has 
upset me. So unpleasant! Such want of tact! . . . 



226 FRUITS OF CULTURE 

Professor, Very well. . . . Nicholas, are you here? 

[Tanya raps twice and rings, Simon roars, spreads 
his arms out, seizes Sahatof and the Professor 
• — squeezing them. 
Professor, What an unexpected phenomenon! The 
medium himself reacted upon ! This never happened before ! 
Leonid Fyodoritch, will you watch? It is difficult for me 
to do so. He squeezes me so! Mind you observe Gross- 
man! This needs the very greatest attention! 

[Tanya throws the Peasants' paper on the table, 
Leonid Fyodoritch, Something has fallen upon the table. 
Professor, See what it is! 
Leonid Fyodoritch, Paper! A folded paper! 

[Tanya throws a travelling inkstand on the table. 
Leonid Fyodoritch, An inkstand! 

[Tanya throws a pen. 
Leonid Fyodoritch. A pen! 

[Simon roars and squeezes. 
Professor (crushed). Wait a bit, wait: a totally new 
manifestation! The action proceeding not from the medi- 
umistic energy produced, but from the medium himself! 
However, open the inkstand, and put the pen on the table, 
and he will write! 

[Tanya goes behind Leonid Fyodoritch and strikes 
him on the head with the guitar, 
Leonid Fyodoritch. He has struck me on the head! 
{Examining table.) The pen is not writing yet and the 
paper remains folded. 

Professor. See what the paper is, and quickly; evi- 
dently the dual influence — his and Grossman's — has pro- 
duced a perturbation! 

Leonid Fyodoritch {goes out and returns at once) . Ex- 
traordinary! This paper is an agreement with some peas- 
ants that I refused to sign this morning and returned to 
the peasants. Probably he wants me to sign it? 

Professor, Of course! Of course! But ask him. 
Leonid Fyodoritch. Nicholas, do you wish . . . 

[Tanya knocks twice. 
Professor. Do you hear? It is quite evident! 

[Leonid Fyodoritch takes the paper and pen and 



FRUITS OF CULTURE 227 

goes out. Tanya knocks, plays on the guitar and 
the accordion, and then creeps under the sofa. 
Leonid Fyodoritch returns. Simon stretches 
himself and coughs. 

Leonid Fyodoritch. He is waking up. We can light the 
candles. 

Professor (hurriedly). Doctor, Doctor, please, his 
pulse and temperature! You will see that a rise of both 
will be apparent. 

Leonid Fyodoritch (lights the candles). Well, what do 
you gentlemen who were sceptical think of it now? 

Doctor (goes up to Simon and places thermometer). 
Now then my lad. Well, have you had a nap? There, put 
that in there, and give me your hand. 
[Looks at his watch. 

Sahdtof (shrugging his shoulders). I must admit that 
all that has occurred cannot have been done by the medium. 
But the thread? ... I should like the thread explained. 

Leonid Fyodoritch. A thread! A thread! We have 
been witnessing manifestations more important than a 
thread. 

Sahdtof. I don't know. At all events, je reserve mon 
opinion. 

Fat Lady (to Sahatof). Oh, no, how can you say: "je 
reserve mon opinion"? And the infant with the little wings? 
Didn't you see? At first I thought it was only an illu- 
sion, but afterwards it became clearer and clearer, like a 
live . . . 

Sahdtof. I can only speak of what I have seen. I did 
not see that — nothing of the kind. • 

Fat Lady. You don't mean to say so? Why, it was 
quite plainly visible! And to the left there was a monk 
clothed in black bending over it . . . 

Sahdtof (moves away. Aside). What exaggeration! 

Fat Lady (addressing the Doctor). You must have 
seen it! It rose up from your side. 

[Doctor goes on counting the pulse without heeding 
her. 

Fat Lady (to Grossman). And that light, the light 
around it, especially around its little face! And the ex- 



228 FRUITS OF CULTURE 

pression so mild and tender, something so heavenly! 
[Smiles tenderly herself. 
Grossman, I saw phosphorescent light, and objects 
changed their places, but I saw nothing more than that. 

Fat Lady. Don't tell me! You don't mean it! It is 
simply that you scientists of Charcot's school do not be- 
lieve in a life beyond the grave! As for me, no one could 
now make me disbelieve in a future life — no one in the 
world! 

[Grossman moves away from her. 
Fat Lady. No, no, whatever you may say, this is one of 
the happiest moments of my life! When I heard Sarasate 
play, and now. . . . Yes! (No one listens to her. She 
goes up to Simon.) Now tell me, my friend, what did you 
feel? Was it very trying? 

Simon (laughs). Yes, ma'm, just so. 
Fat Lady. Still not unendurable? 
Simon. Just so, ma'm. (To Leonid Fyodoritch.) Am 
I to go? 

Leonid Fyodoritch. Yes, you may go. 
Doctor (to the Professor). The pulse is the same, but 
the temperature is lower. 

Professor. Lower! (Considers awhile, then suddenly 
divines the conclusion.) It had to be so — it had to descend! 
The dual influence crossing had to produce some kind 
cf reflex action. Yes, that's it! 

Leonid Fyodoritch. I'm only sorry we had no com- 
plete materialisation. But still. . . . Come, gentle- 
men, let us go to the drawing-room? 

Fat Lady. What specially struck me was when 
.g 5 I he flapped his wings, and one saw how he 
S J rose! 

Grossman (to Sahatof). If we had kept to hyp- 
notism, we might have produced a thorough state 
of epilepsy. The success might have been com- 
plete! 

Sahatof. It is ver.y interesting, but not entirely 
convincing. That is all I can say. 
[Enter Theodore Ivanitch. 
Leonid Fyodoritch (with paper in his hand). Ah, 






FRUITS OF CULTURE 229 

Theodore, what a remarkable seance we have had ! It turns 
out that the peasants must have the land on their own 
terms. 

Theodore Ivdnitch. Dear me! 

Leonid Fyodoritch. Yes, indeed. (Showing paper.) 
Fancy, this paper that I returned to them, suddenly ap- 
peared on the table! I have signed it. 

Theodore Ivdnitch. How did it get there? 

Leonid Fyodoritch. Well, it did get there! 

[Exit. Theodore Ivanitch follows him out. 

Tanya (gets from under the soja and laughs). Oh, 
dear, oh dear! Well, I did get a fright when he got hold of 
the thread! (Shrieks.) Well, anyhow, it's all right — he 
has signed it! 

[Enter Gregory. 

Gregory. So it was you that was fooling them? 

Tanya. What business is it of yours? 

Gregory. And do you think the missis will be pleased 
with you for it? No, you bet; you're caught now! I'll 
tell them what tricks you're up to, if you don't let me have 
my way! 

Tanya. And you'll not get your way, and you'll not do 
me any harm! 

CURTAIN 



ACT IV 

The same scene as in Act I. The next day. Two liveried 
footmen, Theodore Ivanitch and Gregory. 
First Footman (with grey whiskers). Yours is the 
third house to-day. Thank goodness that all the at-homes 
are in this direction. Yours used to be on Thursdays. 

Theodore Ivanitch. Yes, we changed to Saturday so as 
to be on the same day as the Golovkins and Grade von 
Grabes . . . 

Second Footman. The Stcherbakofs do the thing well. 
There's refreshments for the footmen every time theyVe 
a ball. 

[The two Princesses, mother and daughter, come 
down the stairs accompanied by Betsy. The old 
Princess looks in her note-book and at her watch, 
and sits down on the settle. Gregory puts on her 
overshoes. 
Young Princess. Now, do come. Because, if you refuse, 
and Dodo refuses, the whole thing will be spoilt. 

Betsy. I don't know. I must certainly go to the Shou- 
bins. And then there is the rehearsal. 

Young Princess. You'll have plenty of time. Do, please. 
Ne nous fais pas faux bond. 1 Fedya and Koko will come. 
Betsy. Fen ai par-dessus la tete de votre Koko. 2 
Young Princess. I thought I should see him here. O- 
dinairement il est d'une exactitude . . . 3 
Betsy. He is sure to come. 

Young Princess. When I see you together, it always 
seems to me that he has either just proposed or is just 
going to propose. 

1 Do not disappoint us. 

2 Betsy. I have more than enough of your Koko. 

3 Young Princess. . . . He is usually so very punctual . . . 

230 



FRUITS OF CULTURE 231 

Betsy. Yes, I don't suppose it can Be avoided. I shall 
kave to go through with it. And it is so unpleasant! 

Young Princess. Poor Koko! He is head over ears in 
love. 

Betsy. Cessez, les gens! 1 

[Young Princess sits down, talking in whispers. 
Gregory puts on her overshoes. 

Young Princess. Well then, good-bye till this evening. 

Betsy. I'll try to come. 

Old Princess. Then tell your papa that I don't believe 
in anything of the kind, but will come to see his new 
medium. Only he must let me know when. Good after- 
noon, ma toute belle. 

[Kisses Betsy, and exit, followed by her daughter. 
Betsy goes upstairs. 

Gregory. I don't like putting on an old woman's over- 
shoes for her; she can't stoop, can't see her shoe for her 
stomach, and keeps poking her foot in the wrong place. 
It's different with a young one; it's pleasant to take her 
foot in one's hand. 

Second Footman. Hear him! Making distinctions! 

First Footman. It's not for us footmen to make such 
distinctions. 

Gregory. Why shouldn't one make distinctions; are we 
not men? It's they think we don't understand! Just now 
they were deep in their talk, then they look at me, and at 
once it's "lay zhon!" 

Second Footman. And what's that? 

Gregory. Oh, that means, "Don't talk, they under- 
stand!" It's the same at table. But I understand! You 
say, there's a difference? I say there is none. 

First Footman. There is a great difference for those 
who understand. 

Gregory. There is none at all. To-day I am a footman, 
and to-morrow I may be living no worse than they are. 
Has it never happened that they've married footmen? I'll 
go and have a smoke. 
[Exit. 

Second Footman. That's a bold young man you've got. 
1 Betsy. Cease; mind the servants! 



232 FRUITS OF CULTURE 

Theodore Ivdnitch. A worthless fellow, not fit for serv- 
ice. He used to be an office boy and has got spoilt. I 
advised them not to take him, but the mistress liked him. 
He looks well on the carriage when they drive out. 

First Footman. I should like to send him to our Count; 
he'd put him in his place! Oh, he don't like those scatter- 
brains. "If you're a footman, be a footman and fulfil your 
calling." Such pride is not befitting. 

[Petristchef comes running downstairs, and takes 
out a cigarette. 

Petristchef {deep in thought). Let's see, my second is 
the same as my first. Echo, a-co, co-coa. (Enter Koko 
Klingen, wearing his pince-nez.) Ko-ko, co-coa. Cocoa 
tin, where do you spring from? 

Koko Klingen. From the Stcherbakofs. You are al- 
ways playing the fool . . . 

Petristchef. No, listen to my charade. My first is the 
same as my second, my third may be cracked, my whole is 
like your pate. 

Koko Klingen. I give it up. I've no time. 

Petristchef. Where else are you going? 

Koko Klingen. Where? Of course to the Ivins, to 
practice for the concert. Then to the Shoiibins, and then 
to the rehearsal. You'll be there too, won't you? 

Petristchef. Most certainly. At the re-her-Sall and 
also at the re-her-Sarah. Why, at first I was a savage, 
and now I am both a savage and a general. 

Koko Klingen. How did yesterday's seance go off? 

Petristchef. Screamingly funny! There was a peasant, 
and above all, it was all in the dark. Vovo cried like an 
infant, the Professor defined, and Marya Vasilevna refined. 
Such a lark! You ought to have been there. 

Koko Klingen. I'm afraid, mon cher. You have a way 
of getting off with a jest, but I always feel that if I say 
a word they'll construe it into a proposal. Et ga ne m'ar- 
range pas du tout, du tout. Mais du tout, du tout! 1 

Petristchef. Instead of a proposal, make a proposition, 
and receive a sentence! Well, I shall go in to Vovo's. If 
you'll call for me, we can go to the re-her-Sarah together. 
1 And that won't suit me at all, at all ! Not at all, at all ! 



FRUITS OF CULTURE 233 

Koko Klingen. I can't think how you can be friends 
with such a fool. He is so stupid — a regular blockhead! 

Petristchej. And I am fond of him. I love Vovo, 
but . . . "with a love so strange, ne'er towards him the 
path untrod shall be" . . . 
[Exit into Vovo's room. 

[Betsy comes down with a Lady. Koko hows sig- 
nificantly to Betsy. 

Betsy (shaking Koko's hand without turning towards 
him. T^Lady). You are acquainted? 

Lady. No. 

Betsy. Baron Klingen. . . . Why were you not here 
last night? 

Koko Klingen. I could not come, I was engaged. 

Betsy. What a pity, it was so interesting! (Laughs.) 
You should have seen what manifestations we had! Well, 
how is our charade getting on? 

Koko Klingen. Oh, the verses for mon second are ready. 
Nick composed the verses, and I the music. 

Betsy. What are they? What are they? Do tell me! 

Koko Klingen. Wait a minute; how does it go? . . . 
Oh, the knight sings: 

"Oh, naught so beautiful as nature: 
The Nautilus sails by. 
Oh, naughty lass, ph, naughty lass! 
Oh, nought, oh, nought! Oh, fie!" 

Lady. I see, my second is "nought," and what is my 
first? ' 

Koko Klingen. My first is Aero, the name of a girl 
savage. 

Betsy. Aero, you see, is a savage who wished to devour 
the object of her love. (Laughs.) She goes about lament- 
ing, and sings — 

"My appetite," 
Koko Klingen (interrupts) — 

"How can I fight," . . . 
Betsy (chimes in) — 

"Some one to chew I long. 
I seeking go . . ." 
Koko Klingen — 

"But even so . . " 



234 FRUITS OF CULTURE 

Betsy — 

"No one to chew can find." 

Koko Klingen — 

"A raft sails by," 
Betsy — 

"It cometh nigh ; 
Two generals upon it . . ." 

Koko Klingen — 

"Two generals are we: 
By fate's hard decree, 
To this island we flee." 

And then, the refrain — 

"By fate's hard decree, 
To this island we flee." 

Lady. Charmant! 
Betsy. But just think how silly! 
Koko Klingen. Yes, that's the charm of it! 
Lady. And who is to be Aero? 

Betsy. I am. And I have had a costume made, but 
mamma says it's "not decent." And it is not a bit less 
decent than a ball dress. (To Theodore Ivanitch.) Is 
Bourdier's man here? 

Theodore Ivanitch. Yes, he is waiting in the kitchen. 
Lady. Well, and how will you represent Aeronaut? 
Betsy. Oh, you'll see. I don't want to spoil the pleasure 
for you. Au revoir. 
Lady. Good-bye! 

[They bow. Exit Lady. 
Betsy (to Koko Klingen). Come up to mamma. 
{Betsy and Koko go upstairs. Jacob enters from 
servants' quarters, carrying a tray with teacups, 
cakes, etc., and goes panting across the stage. 
Jacob (to the Footmen). How d 'you do? How d 'you 
do? 

[Footmen bow. 
Jacob (to Theodore Ivanitch). Couldn't you tell 
Gregory to help a bit! I'm ready to drop. . . . 
[Exit up the stairs. 
First Footman. That is a hard-working chap you've got 
there. 



FRUITS OF CULTURE 235 

Theodore Ivdnitch. Yes, a good fellow. But there now 
— he doesn't satisfy the mistress, she says his appearance is 
ungainly. And now they've gone and told tales about him 
for letting some peasants into the kitchen yesterday. It is 
a bad look-out: they may dismiss him. And he is a good 
fellow. 
Second Footman. What peasants were they? 
Theodore Ivdnitch. Peasants that had come from our 
Koursk village to buy some land. It was night, and they 
were our fellow-countrymen, one of them the father of 
the butler's assistant. Well, so they were asked into the 
kitchen. It so happened that there was thought-reading 
going on. Something was hidden in the kitchen, and all 
the gentlefolk came down, and the mistress saw the peas- 
ants. There was such a row! "How is this," she says; 
"these people may be infected, and they are let into the 
kitchen !" . . . She is terribly afraid of this infection* 
[Enter Gregory. 
Theodore Ivdnitch. Gregory, you go and help Jacob > 
I'll stay here. He can't manage alone. 

Gregory. He's awkward, that's why he can't manage. 

[Exit. 
First Footman. And what is this new mania they have 
got? This infection! ... So yours also is afraid of 
it? 

Theodore Ivdnitch. She fears it worse than fire! Our 
chief business, nowadays, is fumigating, washing, and 
sprinkling. 

First Footman. I see. That's why there is such a stuffy 
smell here. {With animation.) I don't know what 
we're coming to with these infection notions. It's just de- 
testable! They seem to have forgotten the Lord. There's 
our master's sister, Princess Mosolova, her daughter was 
dying, and, will you believe it, neither father nor mother 
would come near her! So she died without their having 
taken leave of her. And the daughter cried, and called 
them to say good-bye — but they didn't go! The doctor 
had discovered some infection or other! And yet their 
own maid and a trained nurse were with her, and nothing 
happened to them; they're still alive! 



236 FRUITS OF CULTURE 

[Enter Vasily Leoniditch and Petristchef from 
Vastly Leoniditch's room, smoking cigarettes. 

Petristchef. Come along then, only I must take Koko 
— Cocoanut, with me. 

Vasily Leoniditch. Your Koko is a regular dolt; I can't 
bear him. A hare-brained fellow, a regular gad-about! 
Without any kind of occupation, eternally loafing around! 
Eh, what? 

Petristchef. Well, anyhow, wait a bit, I must say good- 
bye. 

Vasily Leoniditch. All right. And I will go and look at 
my dogs in the coachman's room. I've got a dog there 
that's so savage, the coachman said, he nearly ate him. 

Petristchef. Who ate whom? Did the coachman really 
eat the dog? 

Vasily Leoniditch. You are always at it! 
[Puts on outdoor things and goes out. 

Petristchef ( thoughtfully ) . Ma - kin - tosh, Co - co - 
tin. . . . Let's see. [Goes upstairs. 
[Jacob runs across the stage. 

Theodore Ivdnitch. What's the matter? 

Jacob. There is no more thin bread and butter. I 
said . . . [Exit.] 

Second Footman. And then our master's little son fell 
ill, and they sent him at once to an hotel with his nurse, 
and there he died without his mother. 

First Footman. They don't seem to fear sin! / think 
you cannot escape from God anywhere. 

Theodore Ivdnitch. That's what I think. 

[Jacob runs upstairs with bread and butter. 

First Footman. One should consider too, that if we are 
to be afraid of everybody like that, we'd better shut our- 
selves up within four walls, as in a prison, and stick there! 
[Enter Tanya; she bows to the Footmen. 

Tanya. Good afternoon. 
[Footmen bow. 

Tanya. Theodore Ivanitch, I have a word to say to you. 

Theodore Ivdnitch. Well, what? 

Tanya. The peasants have come again, Theodore Ivan- 
itch . . . 






FRUITS OF CULTURE 237 



Theodore Ivdnitch. Well? I gave the paper to Simon. 

Tanya. I have given them the paper. They were that 
grateful! I can't say how! Now they only ask you to take 
the money. 

Theodore Ivdnitch. But where are they? 

Tanya. Here, by the porch. 

Theodore Ivdnitch. All right, I'll tell the master. 

Tanya. I have another request to you, dear Theodore 
Ivanitch. 

Theodore Ivdnitch. What now? 

Tanya. Why, don't you see, Theodore Ivanitch, I can't 
remain here any longer. Ask them to let me go. 
[Enter Jacob, running. 

Theodore Ivdnitch {to Jacob). What d'you want? 

Jacob. Another samovar, and oranges. 

Theodore Ivdnitch. Ask the housekeeper. 
[Exit Jacob. 

Theodore Ivdnitch {to Tanya). How is that? 

Tanya. Why, don't you see, my position is such . . . 

Jacob {runs in). There are not enough oranges. 

Theodore Ivdnitch. iServe up as many as you've got. 
{Exit Jacob.) Now's not the time! Just see what a bustle 
we are in. 

Tanya. But you know yourself, Theodore Ivanitch, 
there is no end to this bustle; one might wait for ever — you 
know yourself — and my affair is for life . . . . Dear Theo- 
dore Ivanitch, you have done me a good turn, be a father 
to me now, choose the right moment and tell her, or else 
she'll get angry and won't let me have my passport. x 

Theodore Ivdnitch. Where's the hurry? 

Tanya. Why, Theodore Ivanitch, it's all settled 
now. . . . And I could go to my godmother's and get 
ready, and then after Easter we'd get married. 2 Do tell 
her, dear Theodore Ivanitch! 

Theodore Ivdnitch. Go away — this is not the place. 

1 Employers have charge of the servants' passports, and in this 
way have a hold on them in case of misconduct. 

2 See footnote, p. 79. It is customary for peasants to marry 
just after Easter, but when spring has come and the field work 
begun, no marriages take place among them till autumn. 



238 FRUITS OF CULTURE 

[An elderly Gentleman comes downstairs } puts on 
overcoat, and goes out, followed by the Second 
Footman. 
[Exit Tanya. Enter Jacob. 
Jacob. Just fancy, Theodore Ivanitch, it's too bad! She 
wants to discharge me now! She says, "You break every- 
thing, and forget Frisk, and you let the peasants into the 
kitchen against my orders!" And you know very well 
that I knew nothing about it. Tatyana told me, "Take 
them into the kitchen"; how could I tell whose order it 
was? 

Theodore Ivdnitch. Did the mistress speak to you? 
Jacob. She's just spoken. Do speak up for me, Theo- 
dore Ivanitch! You see, my people in the country are only 
just getting on their feet, and suppose I lose my place, 
when shall I get another? Theodore Ivanitch, do, please! 
[Anna Pavlovna comes down with the old Coun- 
tess, whom she is seeing off. The Countess has 
false teeth and hair. The First Footman helps 
the Countess into her outdoor things. 
Anna Pavlovna. Oh, most certainly, of course! I am so 
deeply touched. 

Countess. If it were not for my illness, I should come 
oftener to see you. 

Anna Pavlovna. You should really consult Peter Petrov- 
itch. He is rough, but nobody can soothe one as he does. 
He is so clear, so simple. 

Countess. Oh no, I shall keep to the one I am used to. 
Anna Pavlovna. Pray, take care of yourself. 
Countess. Merci, mille fois merci. 1 

[Gregory, dishevelled and excited, jumps out from 
the servants' quarters. Simon appears behind him 
in the doorway. 
Simon. You'd better leave her alone! 
Gregory. You rascal! I'll teach you how to fight, you 
scamp, you! 

Anna Pavlovna. What do you mean? Do you think you 
are in a public-house? 

1 Countess. Thank you (for your hospitality), a thousand 

thanks. 



FRUITS OF CULTURE 239 

Gregory. This coarse peasant makes life impossible for 
me. 

Anna Pdvlovna (provoked). YouVe lost your senses. 
Don't you see? (To Countess.) Merci, mille jois merci. 
A mardit 1 

{Exeunt Countess and First Footman. 

Anna Pdvlovna (to Gregory). What is the meaning 
of this? 

Gregory. Though I do occupy the position of a footman, 
still I won't allow every peasant to hit me; I have my 
pride too. 

Anna Pdvlovna. Why, what has happened? 

Gregory. Why, this Simon of yours has got so brave, 
sitting with the gentlemen, that he wants to fight! 

Anna Pdvlovna. Why? What for? 

Gregory. Heaven only knows! 

Anna Pdvlovna (to Simon). What is the meaning of 
it? 

Simon. Why does he bother her? 

Anna Pdvlovna. What has happened? 

Simon (smiles). Well, you see, he is always catching 
hold of Tanya, the lady's-maid, and she won't have it. 
Well, so I just moved him aside a bit, just so, with my 
hand. 

Gregory. A nice little bit! He's almost caved my ribs 
in, and has torn my dress-coat, and he says, "The same 
power as came over me yesterday comes on me again," and 
he begins to squeeze me. 

Anna Pdvlovna (to Simon). How dare you fight in my 
house? 

Theodore Ivdnitch. May I explain it to you, ma'am? 
I must tell you Simon is not indifferent to Tanya, and is 
engaged to her. And Gregory — one must admit the truth — 
does not behave properly, nor honestly, to her. Well, so 
I suppose Simon got angry with him. 

^ Gregory. Not at all! It is all his spite, because I have 
discovered their trickery. 

Anna Pdvlovna. What trickery? 

1 Anna Pdvlovna. Thank you (for coming to see us), a thou- 
sand thanks. Till next Tuesday! 



240 FRUITS OF CULTURE 

Gregory. Why, at the seance. All those things, last 
night, — it was not Simon but Tanya who did them! I saw 
her getting out from under the sofa with my own eyes. 

Anna Pdvlovna. What is that? From under the 
sofa? 

Gregory. I give you my word of honor. And it was 
she who threw the paper on the table. If it had not been 
for her the paper would not haye been signed, nor the 
land sold to the peasants. 
Anna Pdvlovna. And you saw it yourself? 
Gregory. With my own eyes. Shall I call her? She'll 
not deny it. 

Anna Pdvlovna. Yes, call her. 
[Exit Gregory. 

[Noise behind the scenes. The voice of the Door- 
keeper, "No, no, you cannot." Doorkeeper is 
seen at the front door, the three Peasants rush in 
past him, the Second Peasant first; the Third 
one stumbles, falls on his nose, and catches hold 
of it. 
Doorkeeper. You must not go in! 

Second Peasant. Where's the harm? We are not doing 
anything wrong. We only wish to pay the money! 

First Peasant. That's just it; as by laying on the signa- 
ture the affair is come to a conclusion, we only wish to 
make payment with thanks. 

Anna Pdvlovna. Wait a bit with your thanks. It was all 
done by fraud! It is not settled yet. Not sold yet. . . . 
Leonid. . . . Call Leonid Fyodoritch. 
[Exit Doorkeeper. 

[Leonid Fyodoritch enters, but, seeing his wife 

and the Peasants, wishes to retreat. 

Anna Pdvlovna. No, no, come here, please! I told you 

the land must not be sold on credit, and everybody told 

you so, but you let yourself be deceived like the veriest 

blockhead. 

Leonid Fyodoritch. How? I don't understand who is 
deceiving? 

Anna Pdvlovna. You ought to be ashamed of yourself! 
You have grey hair, and you let yourself be deceived an 



• 



FRUITS OF CULTURE 241 

laughed at like a silly boy. You grudge your son some 
three hundred roubles which his social position demands, 
and let yourself be tricked of thousands — like a fool! 

Leonid Fyodoritch. Now come., Annette, try to be 
calm. 

First Peasant. We are only come about the acceptation 
of the sum, for example . . . 

Third Peasant (taking out the money). Let us finish 
the matter, for Christ's sake! 

Anna Pdvlovna. Wait, wait! 

[Enter Tanya and Gregory. 

Anna Pdvlovna (angrily). You were in the small 
drawing-room during the seance last night? 

[Tanya looks around at Theodore Ivanitch, Le- 
onid Fyodoritch, and Simon, and sighs. 

Gregory. It's no use beating about the bush; I saw you 
myself . . . 

Anna Pdvlovna. Tell me, were you there? I know all 
about it, so you'd better confess! I'll not do anything to 
you. I only want to expose him (pointing to Leonid Fyo- 
doritch) your master. . . . Did you throw the paper on 
the table? 

Tanya. I don't know how to answer. Only one thing, — 
let me go home. 

[Enter Betsy unobserved. 

Anna Pdvlovna (to Leonid Fyodoritch). There, you 
see! You are being made a fool of. 

Tanya. Let me go home, Anna Pavlovna! 

Anna Pdvlovna. No, my dear! You may have caused 
us a loss of thousands of roubles. Land has been sold 
that ought not to be sold! 

Tanya. Let me go, Anna Pavlovna! 

Anna Pdvlovna. No; you'll have to answer for it! Such 
tricks won't do. We'll have you up before the Justice of 
the Peace! 

Betsy (comes forward). Let her go, mamma. Or, if 
you wish to have her tried, you must have me tried too! 
She and I did it together. 

Anna Pdvlovna. Well, of course, if you have a hand in 
anything, what can one expect but the very worst results! 



242 FRUITS OF CULTURE 

[Enter the Professor. 

Professor, How do you do, Anna Pavlovna? How do 
you do, Miss Betsy? Leonid Fyodoritch, I have brought 
you a report of the Thirteenth Congress of Spiritualists at 
Chicago. An amazing speech by Schmidt! 

Leonid Fyodoritch. Oh, that is interesting! 

Anna Pavlovna. I will tell you something much moie 
interesting! It turns out that both you and my husband 
were fooled by this girl! Betsy takes it on herself, but 
that is only to annoy me. It was an illiterate peasant girl 
who fooled you, and you believed it all. There were no 
mediumistic phenomena last night; it was she (pointing to 
Tanya) who did it! 

Professor (taking off his overcoat). What do you 
mean? 

Anna Pavlovna. I mean that it was she who, in the 
dark, played on the guitar and beat my husband on the 
head and performed all your idiotic tricks — and she has 
just confessed! 

Professor (smiling). What does that prove? 

Anna Pavlovna. It proves that your mediumism is — 
tomfoolery; that's what it proves! 

Professor. Because this young girl wished to deceive, we 
are to conclude that mediumism is "tomfoolery," as you 
are pleased to express it? (Smiles.) A curious conclusion! 
Very possibly this young girl may have wished to deceive: 
that often occurs. She may even have done something; but 
then, what she did — she did. But the manifestations of 
mediumistic energy still remain manifestations of medium- 
istic energy! It is even very probable that what this 
young girl did evoked (and so to say solicited) the mani- 
festation of mediumistic energy, — giving it a definite 
form* 

Anna Pdvlovna. Another lecture! 

Professor (sternly). You say, Anna Pavlovna, thaf 
this girl, and perhaps this dear young lady also, did some- 
thing; but the light we all saw, and, in the first case the 
fall, and in the second the rise of temperature, and Gross- 
man's excitement and vibration — were those things also 
done by this girl? And these are facts, Anna Pavlovna., 



FRUITS OF CULTURE 243 

facts! No! Anna Pavlovna, there are things which must 
be investigated and fully understood before they can be 
talked about, things too serious, too serious . . . 

Leonid Fy odor itch. And the child that Marya Vasilevna 
distinctly saw? Why, I saw it too. . . . That could not 
have been done by this girl. 

Anna Pavlovna. You think yourself wise, but you are — 
a fool. 

Leonid Fyodoritch. Well, I'm going. . . . Alexey 
Vladimiritch, will you come? 
[Exit into his study. 

Professor (shrugging his shoulders, follows). Oh, how 
far, how far, we still lag behind Western Europe! 
[Enter Jacob. 

Anna Pavlovna (following Leonid Fyodoritch with 
her eyes). He has been tricked like a fool, and he sees 
nothing! (To Jacob.) What do you want? 

Jacob. How manv persons am I to lay the table 
for? 

Anna Pavlovna. For how many? . . . Theodore Ivan- 
itch! Let him give up the silver plate to you. Be off, at 
once! It is all his fault! This man will bring me to my 
grave. Last night he nearly starved the dog that had 
done him no harm! And, as if that were not enough, he 
lets the infected peasants into the kitchen, and now they 
are here again! It is all his fault! Be off at once! Dis- 
charge him, discharge him! (To Simon.) And you, hor- 
rid peasant, if you dare to have rows in my house again, I'll 
teach you! 

Second Peasant. All right, if he is a horrid peasant 
there's no good keeping him; you'd better discharge him 
too, and there's an end of it. 

Anna Pavlovna (while listening to him looks at Third 
Peasant). Only look! Why, he has a rash on his nose — 
a rash! He is ill; he is a hotbed of infection!! Did I 
not give orders, yesterday, that they were not to be al- 
lowed into the house, and here they are again? Drive them 
out! 

Theodore Ivdnitch. Then are we not to accept their 
money? 



244 FRUITS OF CULTURE 

Anna Pdvlovna. Their money? Oh yes, take their 
money; but they must be turned out at once, especially 
this one! He is quite rotten! 

Third Peasant. That's not just, lady. God's my wit- 
ness, it's not just! You'd better ask my old woman, let's 
say, whether I am rotten! I'm clear as crystal, let's 
say. 

Anna Pdvlovna. He talks! . . . Off, off with him! It's 
all to spite me! . . . Oh, I can't bear it, I can't! . . . 
Send for the doctor! 

[Runs away, sobbing. Exit also Jacob and Greg- 
ory. 

Tanya (to Betsy). Miss Elizabeth, darling, what am 
I to do now? 

Betsy. Never mind, you go with them and I'll arrange 
it all. 

[Exit. 

First Peasant. Well, your reverence, how about the re- 
ception of the sum now? 

Second Peasant. Let us settle up, and go. 

Third Peasant (fumbling with the packet of bank- 
notes). Had I known, I'd not have come for the world. 
It's worse than a fever! 

Theodore Ivdnitch (to Doorkeeper). Show them into 
my room. There's a counting-board there. I'll receive 
their money. Now go. 

Doorkeeper. Come along. 

Theodore Ivdnitch. And it's Tanya you have to thank 
for it. But for her you'd not have had the land. 

First Peasant. That's just it. As she made the pro- 
posal, so she put it into effect. 

Third Peasant. She's made men of us. Else what were 
we? We had so little land, no room to let a hen out, 
let's say, not to mention the cattle. Good-bye, dear! When 
you get to the village, come to us and eat honey. 

Second Peasant. Let me get home and I'll start brew- 
ing the beer for the wedding! You will come? 

Tanya. Yes, I'll come, I'll come! (Shrieks.) Simon, 
this is fine, isn't it? 

[Exeunt Peasants. 






THE POWER OF DARKNESS 245 

Theodore Ivdnitch. Well, Tanya, when you have your 
bouse I'll come to visit you. Will you welcome me? 

Tanya. Dear Theodore Ivanitch, just the same as we 
would our own father! 

[Embraces and kisses him.] 

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